The Orb of the Serpent
by Unclebulgaria5
Summary: The adventures of Leanne Davies, one of the missing first year Gryffindor girls, who discovers the secrets of Hogwarts and in turn, learns about herself, her past and her family...
1. A Note

**A Note**

This is my first fan fiction writing, and it tells the story of Leanne Davies, one of the Gryffindor first year girls that has never been seen in the books. It tells the story of the Harry Potter books, though through the eyes of Leanne and her friends, but it will be one continuous story rather than seven separate stories like J. K. Rowling has made. If the story gets too larger, it will be split up into different parts.

The story is called The Orb of the Serpent, though the reason of this title will only become apparent once the story is in full swing. I have done a lot of planning for this story, and have created backgrounds for my characters and various plots, though factual and continuity errors will undoubtedly appear. I am sorry if this happens. I am not perfect, but if some really major errors turn up, please contact me and inform me. Reviews would be very much appreciated, as I can see what I am doing well in my story and what needs to be worked on.


	2. Chapter 1: The Letters from Hogwarts

– **Chapter One – **

The Letters from Hogwarts 

**A small tawny owl flapped its wings and soared towards St Edmund's Street, the envelope grasped in its talons destined for number seven of that road. **It was still very early in the morning; few people were up, and even fewer were outside. Those that were hardly noticed the brown owl swooping over their heads clutching an envelope, and although it would have been a common, rather mundane sight for a wizard or witch, the average Muggle would have found it quite odd. Luckily, most Muggles didn't spend much of their time staring up at the sky, and any who saw an owl carrying a letter would probably think that their mind was playing tricks on them.

As number seven approached, the owl lost height and flapped its way around the house, looking for a suitable window with which to fly in and deliver the letter, but soon realised that entry into the house was being denied by the fact that all windows were closed, even though it was mid July and the weather couldn't have been warmer. The owl flapped its way around to the front of the house again.

Through one of the windows, a girl, no older than ten years of age, slept peacefully, not noticing the owl that flew past her window. Nor did she hear the sound of metal as the owl released the letter and it zoomed through the letterbox as if by magic. In fact, the girl only stirred when her mother knocked gently at the door nearly two hours later.

'Leanne, dear, breakfast is ready,' her mother said, loud enough to wake Leanne Davies from her dreams, which had been enjoyable, though hard to remember now that she was awake.

As her mother moved away down the landing, undoubtedly to awaken her brother, Leanne sat up, bleary eyed. She glanced at her clock: it was eight in the morning, not the most pleasant hour to be woken when it was the summer holidays. But her mother had always been an early morning person, and seemed to hope that it would rub on to her two children, but, Leanne saw, as she walked onto the landing after getting dressed, and saw her older brother, Roger, trudging along slowly, his eyes half-closed, it didn't seem to have worked yet. The usual morning struggle to reach the bathroom first ensued, and Leanne managed to get their first, having a wash and brushing her teeth before allowing Roger entry.

Leanne Davies was a witch, just like her brother was a wizard, though for many years, it had been thought that Leanne would be a Muggle like her mother. Her father had been a wizard, and from what she had learned over the past eleven years, many other wizarding folk had not approved of him falling in love with a Muggle, neither had they approved of their rather rushed relationship and their decision to have children at such a young age. By the time they were twenty-two, they had two children, Roger being three years older than Leanne. But then again, during that time – the late 1970s – the extremely powerful dark wizard known as Lord Voldemort had been at full power, and many couples were rushing, some rather foolishly, into things in that fear that they might be dead within a few months.

However, only a few months after Leanne had been born to her, tragedy had struck; her father had died during mysterious circumstances. Leanne and Roger never actually discovered what had exactly happened on that night, and if her mother knew much more than they did, she wasn't letting on. The main theory, which seemed the most likely, was that her father had been killed by the Death Eaters, the loyal servants of Lord Voldemort. Nobody had witnessed the event, and her mother had said that she had returned to the house to find Leanne's father lying dead on the floor, though with no visible wounds or marks. From the age of six onwards, Leanne had asked multiple questions surrounding her father's death and what he was like, but when she realised that every time she spoke of her father, her mother's eyes would well up and she would be unable to respond, she stopped asking.

Leanne's mother and father hadn't been married at the time of her father's death, though a wedding date had been organised, and since then, her mother had never married, and the few relationships she had had didn't last for a very long time, mainly because there were few wizards who would go out with her, and she didn't want to date an 'ordinary person', as she put it, in case the magical tendencies of her children scared him off.

Though she dearly loved her children, and often called their powers as a gift, Leanne had the impression that for many years that her mother had been hoping that Leanne would turn out like her, a Muggle, and for a long time, it certainly looked that way, with Leanne's magical powers only emerging within the past few months. Her mother said that she was proud when Leanne accidentally levitated the Christmas tree and sent it crashing through the wall during Christmas of that year, but she did look slightly disappointed, not to mention annoyed that the wall would have to be replaced.

Since then, the odd magical thing had happened to Leanne, usually when she was very emotional; she somehow conjured a rabbit from nowhere when her own rabbit had died; her homework appeared in her bag when her teacher had shouted at her for forgetting it, and Roger had sprouted boils all over his face when he tried to trip Leanne up.

'What's for breakfast?' Leanne asked as she entered the kitchen, but her question was answered immediately as her mother tipped some sausages and eggs on to her plate.

'Thanks,' Leanne said, and she sat down to tuck into her breakfast as another plate was filled with food for Roger.

'This came in the post today,' her mother said softly, as Leanne wolfed down her sausages, holding up an envelope that looked as though it were made from yellowed parchment. She handed it to Leanne, who disregarded her breakfast for a few moments to look curiously at the odd letter.

It was unlike any other letter she had received; it was thick and heavy and bore an address that was written in emerald ink:

Miss L. Davies The Third Bedroom 

_7 St Edmund's Street_

_Tathwell_

_Lincolnshire _

On the other side, Leanne quickly noticed, was a purple wax seal with a coat of arms, consisting of a lion, an eagle, a badger and a snake surrounding a large letter 'H'.

'Oh, you've got the letter from Hogwarts,' Roger said as he entered the room and sitting down at the table. 'It's about time, too. It's only a few days until your birthday.'

'It's from Hogwarts?' Leanne asked excitedly, but at that moment, she remembered that a letter very much like this one had been delivered at the house almost three years ago, though that one was destined for Roger, who had later enrolled at the school.

'Obviously,' Roger said, speaking as though Leanne was rather dumb. 'Didn't mum tell you?'

Leanne glanced towards her mother, who was wearing a strained smile. She was trying to look as happy as possible for Leanne, but it couldn't have been clearer that her mother was not looking forward to her second child vanishing to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for months on end, whilst she stayed at home on her own. Leanne shot her mother a sympathetic look, though it probably didn't turn out right for she was so excited at the prospect of finally going to Hogwarts, something she had been waiting for ever since she had learned of her magical powers.

'You'll love it,' Roger said, with a mouthful of egg. 'It's wonderful, it really is. You'll probably be in Ravenclaw – that's the house that I'm in, and members of the same family usually end up in the same house, though, it doesn't always work like that. And most of the teachers are great as well, and it doesn't matter that you don't know a lot of magic, everyone starts at the very bottom at Hogwarts…'

Leanne had to be honest in saying that she hadn't seen an awful lot of magic being performed in her life. Her mother, as a Muggle, couldn't perform magic, her father was dead, as were her grandparents (who were witch and wizard on her father's side, she had been told), and Roger wasn't allowed to use magic during the summer holidays, something that not only irritated Roger, who had been itching to show everyone the spells that he had learned over his school years, but also Leanne, who was desperate to see some magic in action. Therefore, it was just as well that everyone was starting at the bottom, for at the moment, she knew as much magic as a Muggle.

'Go on then, open it,' Roger urged, and Leanne realised that the letter had remained unopened in her hands.

Leanne ripped open the envelope and pulled out the letter within, reading what it said:

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry 

_Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore_

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. Of Wizards)_

_Dear Miss Davies,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress_

'Wait, what date is it today?' Leanne asked, suddenly panicky as she read that they were to send their replies no later than July 31st. 'And we don't have an owl! How will we send the reply?'

'Calm down, Leanne,' her mother soothed, smiling, as Leanne looked around frantically for either a calendar or an owl, though she knew she was unlikely to spot the latter. 'It's only July 17th – there's still plenty of time. And Roger communicates with his friends via owl, don't you? I'm sure one of your friends will lend you their owl for a few hours so we can send the reply to Hogwarts, won't they?'

'Sure,' Roger said, nodding.

Leanne calmed down slightly and reread the letter. 'What's a Supreme Mugwump?' she asked, certain that she wouldn't find that word in a Muggle dictionary.

'The Head of the International Confederations of Wizards,' Roger said distractedly as he returned to his breakfast; Leanne, too, was aware that her own breakfast was unfinished, but was too excited about the prospect of going to Hogwarts to be largely concerned about it.

She now pulled out an accompanying piece of parchment, which contained all the books and other items that she would need to take with her to Hogwarts, and glancing down the list and noticing that one of the books was called _The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk_, Leanne guessed that they wouldn't be obtainable from just any shop.

'Where are we going to get all this stuff from?' Leanne enquired, also noticing that different wizarding robes and a wand was required.

'Diagon Alley,' Roger replied. 'It's where most new students get their things from, and it also has the best wand maker, Ollivanders. I went there just before I started Hogwarts, remember? You were crying your eyes out because you couldn't come. You stayed with that babysitter and you punched her in the face…'

'Oh yeah,' Leanne muttered, remembering now; she had been a lot louder and more violent back then. She turned excitedly to her mother and said, 'Can we go soon? Please…'

'Yes, we'll go on Saturday,' her mother replied, after a brief pause during which she glanced at the calendar that Leanne had obviously missed during her panicked look around the room. 'Roger will need to come as well – his robes are getting a bit short now. In fact, I'm a bit surprised that his letter hasn't arrived yet, he got one last year saying that he had new books that needed purchasing…'

Leanne cast her mind back to the previous year; she remembered vaguely Roger getting the letter, but she had been out with some friends when he and his mother had once again visited Diagon Alley, so she had been unable to throw another tantrum. Throwing her mind back even further, she remembered the first time Roger had returned from Diagon Alley; she had been immensely jealous of the piles of books, cauldron, wand and other magical assortments that he had brought back with him, though they had been quickly locked away by her mother, who said that accidents were likely to occur if either of them played with Roger's newly-bought books and equipment.

She tried her best to remember how Roger had reacted when he had first learned that he had a place at Hogwarts, but she had only been eight at that time, and her memory wasn't the best; the only thing she remembered was her mother pretending to be happy, though secretly disappointed that she would be losing her son for many months on end. Leanne knew that her mother was feeling the same way now.

Leanne finally managed to prise the envelope and its contents from her own hand and returned to her breakfast, which was now extremely cold, and she almost knocked the plate to the floor, her hands were shaking in excitement so much. She had been dying to go to Hogwarts for so long, and ever since she had known she was a witch several months ago, she had barely paid attention in her Muggle primary school, knowing that much of what she learned though would be of little use when she attended Hogwarts, since Roger had told her that a large variety of new subjects would be taught there, most of them magical related. Naturally, Leanne not paying attention in school had caused her teacher, and her mother, to have serious words with her, though she knew she could always come back when she was older and cast a spell on her horrid old teacher if she pleased.

'An owl, look,' Roger said suddenly, finishing his breakfast and placing the plate in the sink.

Leanne looked around, and sure enough, a tawny owl was flapping towards them, clutching an envelope in its talons. It looked as though it were going to fly straight into the window, but at the last moment, when it realised the window was closed, and nobody was going to make an effort to open them, it changed direction suddenly and the next second, Leanne heard something popping through the letterbox.

'I'll get it!' Leanne cried, wondering how on earth an owl would be able to post a letter.

She raced out of the kitchen and down the hall towards the front door. On the way, she passed the room that had once been her father's study. When he had been alive, it had been the place where he kept all of his magical stuff since her mother had been quite scared at sharing a house with objects that moved as if they were alive. Ever since he had died, however, the room had remained closed and locked, and her mother said that all of his possessions were still in there, though it was mainly because many of the objects refused to move and a painting on the wall (which had a man inside that occasionally moved, according to her mother) simply could not be removed, and seemed more stable than the wall, which started crumbling after extended periods of trying to take down the picture.

Since then, the room remained locked at almost all times, and only her mother entered the room to clean it every few months, after the man in the portrait had complained that dust had been gathering. Leanne and Roger were never allowed entry and the curtains were always drawn and the windows closed so they couldn't see in from outside. What little she had seen of the room, through the keyhole, comprised of a dark, dusty interior with piles of assorted objects. Repeatedly questioning her mother about what else the room contained usually ended in Leanne gleaming nothing new, and her being sent to her room by her irritated mother, and so she had long since asking about the subject.

'I'll let you in when your old enough,' her mother had said frequently, though Leanne knew she still had a long way to go because Roger was thirteen and he still wasn't allowed to see what was inside the room.

Leanne grabbed the letter that had fallen onto the mat and ran back to the kitchen. It was addressed to Roger and had the same emerald ink written on the heavy envelope. She handed it to her brother and watched him eagerly tear it open and glance at the letter within.

'What does it say?' she asked, when Roger made no effort to tell them what the letter contained.

'Just telling me to catch the Hogwarts Express on September 1st, as usual,' Roger replied, shrugging, 'and a list of new books that I'll need for the coming year. In fact,' he added, turning to his mother, 'I need quite a few new books this year – I'm starting some new subjects…'

'Well, we'll all go on Saturday,' Leanne's mother repeated, having turned to start the washing up. 'I'm very busy at the moment, and I suggest that both of you become very busy within the next few minutes. Your bedrooms,' she went on, catching the puzzled faces on Roger and Leanne, 'are a disgrace and I suggest you tidy them, or there won't be a trip to Diagon Alley this Saturday, or any other day for that matter!'

It was said firmly enough that both Leanne and Roger knew that she meant business. They hastily retreated to their bedrooms and Leanne started throwing objects around the room in a rather haphazard way, too busy thinking about Hogwarts to notice that she was creating an even bigger mess than there was before.

Her mother, it could be said, could have made more of an effort to be proud of her, but then again, Leanne thought, she wouldn't like to be stuck at home for many months either. She felt sorry for her mother for a while, but the feeling quickly subsided, and the sense of excitement that had been lingering in her body reappeared at the surface again, and in her distracted state, accidentally threw a book out of the window.

Her mother may not have been especially proud of the fact that she had gained a place at Hogwarts, but Leanne found consolation in the fact that her father would have been, had he still been alive.


	3. Chapter 2: Diagon Alley

– **Chapter Two – **

Diagon Alley 

**Fortunately for Leanne, she spent so much of her time thinking about Hogwarts that Saturday seemed to approach at breakneck speed. **However, her recent distracted behaviour had got her into trouble with her family, especially when she accidentally tried to feed a pencil to the goldfish and instead of washing the dishes, absent-mindedly started scrubbing one of her mother's cookbooks.

Finally, Saturday arrived, with the consequences that Leanne was so excited that she tumbled down the stairs, taking Roger with him as he descended to have his breakfast. A shouting match soon began, but in her excitement, Leanne forgot what she was arguing about and left Roger standing there, open mouthed, ready to retort. She quickly gulped down her breakfast of cereal, splashing much of the milk on the worktop, as her mother, who wasn't the biggest fan of a messy kitchen, stood nearby, purse-lipped, but determined not to say anything.

'We'll need to set out very early today,' her mother explained, clearing up the copious mess that Leanne had left behind. 'Diagon Alley is in London, so we've got a three hour train ride ahead of us – possibly longer – so I want everyone ready and down here in twenty minutes.'

Leanne had never obeyed her mother's orders faster; within seven minutes, she was standing in the kitchen, fully dressed, washed and waiting impatiently for Roger to arrive. When he finally emerged into the kitchen, he was rather surprised when he was grabbed by Leanne and steered none too gently towards the front door.

'You know, we should really connect our fireplace to the Floo Network,' Roger said, as they clambered into the car. 'We'd get to Diagon Alley in a flash…no need to dawdle around on trains…'

'Floo Network?' Leanne enquired, intrigued, shooting her mother a glance, though she seemed just as confused as her daughter.

'It allows you to travel via Floo powder,' Roger explained, explaining nothing. 'Which means,' he added, noticing the ever increasingly puzzled looks on Leanne's face, 'that you can travel around the country through fireplaces…though, of course, it's not entirely reliable…you sometimes end up in the wrong place if you don't say your destination clearly enough…'

Leanne still didn't understand what Roger meant when he said you could travel through fireplaces, but she quickly shrugged it off, too excited about their imminent trip to Diagon Alley to wonder about anything else. Her mother started the car and they sped off towards the train station, with Leanne telling her to go faster and ignore things such as red lights; her mother, however, remained resolute, and stayed below the speed limit, which meant that they arrived at the train station later than Leanne had hoped.

Once on the train, Leanne busied herself by reading and rereading her list of books and equipment over and over again, but became extremely annoyed when the train kept stopping at other stations. By the time they had spent three hours on the train, Leanne had become so angry that her mother frequently had to stop her from shouting at other passengers, but all angst was lost when they finally arrived in London.

They bustled along the busy streets, her mother leading, whilst Leanne and Roger trailed behind. All around them, Muggles were walking by, concerned with their own businesses, and it took quite a while to reach Charing Cross Road, which was their destination according to Leanne's mother. They finally stopped, and for a few moments, Leanne was unsure what her mother and brother were looking at. It was only when Roger pointed that Leanne saw, nestled between a large book shop and a record shop, a shabby old building that looked like a pub.

'The Leaky Cauldron,' Roger explained as they headed towards the door.

Leanne could not for the likes of her understand why they were entering what must have been the dirtiest, darkest pub in all of London when they needed to be heading towards Diagon Alley. She was about to ask her mother this, but stopped as they entered the Leaky Cauldron, which was filled with people wearing odd-looking clothes such as robes. They were wizarding folk, Leanne knew instantly; some were ordering drinks from the old, bald barman; others were sitting at tables, sipping their newly purchased drinks and reading the newspaper, which seemed to be called the _Daily Prophet_, Leanne noticed as she looked around. She glanced up at her mother, who seemed quite nervous, which was understandable, since her mother, as a Muggle, would be quite out of place here.

'Hey, there's Bradley!' Roger called out over the noise, pointing to one of his friends, who was standing near the back of the pub with his parents. 'Is it okay if I go around Diagon Alley with him instead? I promise to be good and not to go wandering down Knockturn Alley…'

Leanne was still too busy look around to even ask what Knockturn Alley was, but heard her mother say, with a sigh, 'Okay then, but don't get into trouble…and here, you'll need this – your key for Gringotts. Make sure you get enough gold out to pay for all the books on your list.'

Leanne turned around to see Roger nodding hastily as his mother handed him a tiny key, which he quickly pocketed, said goodbye and rushed over to where Bradley and his parents were standing.

'Well, that will make things easier,' Leanne's mother said, looking down at her. 'We won't have Roger peering at every joke item and broomstick that we come to…He keeps saying that he wants to become a – what is it called now – a Kwidditch player…is that what it's called?'

'Quidditch,' Leanne corrected. She had never seen a Quidditch game before, but Roger had explained the rules before and he'd shown her posters of some of the teams.

'Well, anyway, without him, we'll get things done a lot faster,' her mother continued, which didn't exactly please Leanne; she wanted to spend as much time in Diagon Alley as possible. 'Come with me,' her mother added, directing Leanne towards a back door.

She stopped beside a wizard who was reading the _Daily Prophet _in a corner nearest to the door, and asked politely, 'Excuse me, but could you help me and my daughter get into Diagon Alley? It's just that I'm an ordin – I'm a Muggle, so I can't get through the wall. Would you be kind enough to do it for me so that my daughter can buy her things for Hogwarts?'

'Certainly,' the wizard said, folding up his newspaper, opening the back door and walking out into what looked like a small walled courtyard, occupied by a few weeds and a dustbin. He took out his wand, started counting bricks along one of the walls, and suddenly tapped it very sharply.

Leanne nearly jumped back in surprise; the brick quivered and suddenly the whole wall was moving. Within seconds, there was an archway where they hadn't been one, behind which was a long, twisting street that was undoubtedly Diagon Alley.

'Thank you,' Leanne's mother said to the wizard, as she directed her daughter towards the archway; the wizard bowed slightly and headed back into the Leaky Cauldron.

Leanne gazed in wonder at the street that lay before her.It was exactly how she had imagined it, yet much better. There were shops on all sides, some small and rickety-looking, others large and made from marble. Her mother walked briskly through the archway, and Leanne did the same; looking back, she saw the archway instantly shrink back into solid wall. Diagon Alley was bustling with various witches and wizards, some simply wandering lazily around, gazing into shop windows, whilst others obviously had a destination in mind, heading in straight lines from shop to shop, often accompanied by a shopping list and, more often than not, children of about Leanne's age. Leanne assumed that it would be their first time at Hogwarts as well and their parents were rushing around buying their equipment.

There were so many shops to look at; Leanne looked every which way possible as she and her mother walked down the street. There was a cauldron shop closest to her, with a large stack of cauldrons piled up outside the shop, and not much further on, an apothecary, which seemed to sell a variety of herbs and powders.

Leanne's mum, who had been here before and obviously knew where she was going had noticed that her daughter had fallen behind. She stopped as she saw Leanne looking around in awe and laughed. 'Yeah, we'll be going in all these shops soon,' she said to Leanne's delight, 'but first we need to get your money. After all, wizards and witches use different money than ordinary – I mean, people like myself…what do you call them…Muggles?'

Leanne had heard of the bank where the wizards kept their money: it was called Gringotts, and Leanne guessed it was the large, snowy-white marble building the middle of the street that towered up over the other shops. She turned out to be right as they strode towards it. Leanne glanced around one last time at the myriad of people and things being sold before walking up the white stone steps towards the front door. A goblin was standing beside the door to let customers in. Though Leanne had never seen a goblin in real life before, she had seen a picture in one of Roger's textbooksand recognised their pointy beards, long fingers and feet, and the fact that they stood considerable shorter than either Leanne or her mother. He was wearing a uniform of scarlet and gold and he bowed the two of them into Gringotts.

There were standing in a large marble entrance hall. A long counter ran down each side of the room, behind which literally hundreds of goblins sat on high stools, counting gold and scribbling ledgers. Dozens of doors led from the entrance hall, and all the time, goblins were showing customers in an out of them. Leanne's mum headed for the nearest counter.

'Hello, I'm here to withdraw some money from Leanne Davies' safe,' her mother said to a free goblin. 'Here's her key.'

The goblin looked at the tiny golden key that her mother had produced and said, 'That seems to be in order. I will have someone take you down to the desired vault.'

He called forth another goblin, who opened one of the doors and ushered Leanne and her mother through it. Instead or marble corridors, which was what Leanne had expected, they were standing in a narrow stone passageway, lit by flaming torches. It sloped downhill and Leanne noticed that there were railway tracks on the floor. The goblin escorting them whistled and a small cart came hurtling down the tracks towards them. Leanne had heard stories from Roger about the carts; they led to each vault, for they were so deep underground, for security reasons, that it would take too long to reach them by foot.

Indeed, the goblin indicated that they should clamber onto the cart, and they did so. It then zoomed off down the stone passageway, twisting this way and that, plunging deeper underground until they were travelling under hanging stalactites and whizzing over huge chasms that extended down into total darkness. Leanne certainly enjoyed the wild ride, though the goblin looked uninterested; he'd probably taken the cart ride too many times to be impressed by it.

They finally stopped at a vault, which was just a small door in the passageway. The goblin unlocked the door, and the after the green smoke that billowed out had subsided, Leanne saw the small pile of money inside it. There were hundreds of copper Knuts, dozens of silver Sickles and several gold Galleons, the wizarding currency. Leanne couldn't help but grin, knowing that this was her money and her money alone. Her mother exited the cart, scooped it into a bag and rejoined Leanne. The goblin closed and locked the vault, handed the tint key back to Leanne's mother and they sped away again, back they way they had come, towards the entrance hall.

A few minutes later, they disembarked from the cart, re-entered Gringotts' entrance hall and left the building, blinking in the comparative sunlight outside. Leanne looked around, barely able to contain her excitement; now that she had lots of money, she could purchase just about anything. Her mother, meanwhile, had pulled out the list that Hogwarts had sent them and was reading over it silently.

'We'll get your clothes first, I think, since the shop doesn't seem to crowded,' Leanne's mother decided, pointing to a place a few buildings down from Gringotts that was called _Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions_.

They quickly entered; it was probably the most normal-looking shop in Diagon Alley, but still substantially more interesting than the average Muggle shop. There were plenty of robes on show, and Leanne gaped around in wonder at the sheer variety; there were robes that made you look slimmer; robes that adjusted the temperature so you were never too hot or too cold, and even robes that ironed themselves. Unfortunately, Leanne was forced to bypass all of these exciting sounding robes and had to buy the rather mundane school robes, which did nothing special.

Madam Malkin, the owner of the shop, greeted both of them and placed Leanne on a footstool, placed a long robe over her head and starting pinning it to the right size. Leanne looked over to a second footstool, where another witch was fitting a girl about the same age as Leanne, who had brown bushy hair and prominent front teeth. She had obviously already made a stop at a book shop for she was immersed herself in _A History of Magic_, much to the frustration of the witch fitting her, who found it difficult to pin the robes to the right length when a large book was repeatedly getting in the way.

'As long as you don't have a sudden growth spurt, they should last a year or two,' Leanne's mother said, pointing to the newly purchased robes after Leanne had left the shop (the busy haired girl was still in there). 'We might as well go to _Flourish and Blotts _next, it's only next door…'

_Flourish and Blotts _turned out to be a book store, but it was a far cry from the dusty bookshops that Muggles had; there were huge books at big as paving slabs; books as small as postage stamps; books with moving picture on the covers; books that had seemingly nothing inside them, and some books that seemed to have grown tired with sitting on shelves, waiting to be bought, and were sneaking out through a back door. The manager, who seemed like a very put-upon man, was torn between chasing the moving books, and arguing with a customer over the sudden disappearance of _The Invisible Book of Invisibility_.

'We'd better wait until he's calmed down,' Leanne's mother said wisely, pointing to the manager, who was now pulling his hair out in stress. 'Let's look around for a bit.'

'Good idea,' Leanne agreed, noticing that several people on the front covers of nearby books were pointing and laughing at the manager, who was now holding an extremely heavy-looking volume called _Theories of Transubstantial Transfiguration_ in a very threatening manner, as nearby customers backed away in fear.

Leanne went to the back of the room and looked at the various books piled up on tables or placed neatly on shelves. As her mother inspected _Enchantment in Baking_, (though, as a Muggle, she wouldn't be able to perform the cooking spells described within), Leanne looked at some of the more interesting books in the Dark Arts section of the bookstore. She had just picked up a book called _Self-Defensive Spellwork _(which seemed too advanced for Leanne, but interesting nonetheless), when she was bumped from behind and the book flew out of her hands.

'Oh, sorry,' a hard-faced and rather large girl behind her sneered; she had been the one that had hit her, it seemed, and from the look on her face, it hadn't been accidentally.

'Watch where you're going,' Leanne scowled, picking the book up in case the manager saw and started hitting her over the head with _Theories of Transubstantial Transfiguration_.

The girl pretended to be frightened. 'Ooh, aren't you tough?' she mocked cruelly. 'What are you going to do? Call your mummy?'

'Pansy, that's enough,' someone, presumably the girl's mother called out, though she didn't seem too bothered that her daughter had been making fun of someone; in fact, she looked rather pleased, and was just a heavily-built and as pug-faced as her daughter.

Pansy smirked at Leanne one last time and joined her mother at the front of the shop. Leanne looked around; no one had seen what had just happened, for her mother was still looking through the cookbook section. She went over to her mother, and after seeing that the manager had calmed down somewhat, they found the books that had been on the Hogwarts list and took them to the counter. The manager was brusque and packed the books with much more force than was necessary, and was muttering obscenely as Leanne and her mother exited the shop.

'What next?' Leanne enquired, looking around at the cobbled street and staring hungrily at _Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor_, which was across the street, though she was sure that ice creams or sundaes were not mentioned on the list.

'We'll get your equipment now, I'd say,' her mother replied. 'Your cauldron, wand, quills, potion ingredients and so on.'

They backtracked to the archway where they had entered Diagon Alley and started making their way back down the street, this time entering every shop that they needed to. They entered the shop with the stack of cauldrons outside and bought a shiny pewter cauldron, which was admittedly cheap, but rather plain and dull. There were much more exciting cauldrons within the shop, Leanne had noticed, as she walked up and down the aisles, such as self-stirring ones, collapsible ones that could be carried in your pocket, ones that were a lot bigger on the inside than they looked, and ones that cleared up after themselves, but Leanne's mother insisted on a pewter one, since it said so on the list and buying a self-stirring one would be classified as cheating during the Potions class.

The apothecary was also highly interesting, and although Leanne only purchased some basic potion ingredients, she could have spent a great deal longer there, inspecting the barrels of beetle eyes, jars of herbs and Doxy eggs and strings of fangs and claws that hung from the ceiling. However, before Leanne could look more closely at dragon livers, she was whisked from the shop by her mother, who said that time was getting on and that they still had quite a bit to get through.

'It says you can take a pet with you to Hogwarts,' her mother said as she inspected the list again. 'Either an owl, a cat or a toad. I suppose you'll want one…'

'Yeah!' Leanne said eagerly. 'Can I have an owl?'

'Well, I suppose it might come in useful,' her mother muttered to herself, as if trying to convince herself that getting an owl would be a good idea. 'I mean, we can use it to send the reply to Hogwarts…Okay, you can have one,' she said finally, and Leanne made a fist in the air in glee, 'but I can tell Roger isn't going to be happy…he didn't get an owl when he first started Hogwarts…'

They headed towards a nearby building called _Eeylops Owl Emporium_, which had a considerable amount of hooting coming from inside, and Leanne grinned as she followed her mother into the dark shop. She really wanted an owl, and yet, since there were so many varieties to chose from, it took her at least ten minutes to decide which owl she wanted. She thought the snowy owls were beautiful and the tiny Scops owls extremely cute, but she didn't think that the latter would be capable of carrying parcels due to its diminutive size. Eventually, after much deliberation, she picked an incredibly handsome great grey owl, the only one in the shop.

The owner provided Leanne with a cage to carry her new owl around in, and threw in a few owl treats for free, which the owl eyed hungrily. Leanne was extremely pleased as she stepped back out into Diagon Alley and couldn't stop smiling as her mother pulled out the Hogwarts list again to see what they hadn't yet purchased.

Though Leanne wanted to visit _Quality Quidditch Supplies _and see what new broomstick was out (the Nimbus 2000, judging from the model in the window, as she was whisked briefly past), her mother said there was no time and instead ushered her daughter into the small, cramped stationary shop next door. They bought a few rolls of parchment and looked at the many different types of quills on offer. Leanne was tempted to buy a self-inking quill (which inked itself without the need to be manually dipped into the inkwell), but eventually settled on a spell-checking quill, which was handy, for Leanne wasn't the best speller in the world.

After they had visited another small shop to buy other equipment such as brass scales and a telescope, it was time to buy the last, and probably most important item on the list, a magical wand. Wands were bought at a shop entitled _Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC. _The shop was rather dusty and shabby-looking, but Leanne had come to realise after entering the Leaky Cauldron that looks could be deceiving.

They entered the shop, which was dark and small enough without the three other people that were already crammed into what seemed to be the only room. There was a man and a woman, undoubtedly wizard and witch because of the robes they were wearing, both of them thin and tall, though the man had a moustache and was wearing large glasses. Between them, being handed a wand by someone that was obscured from view, was a girl, tall and thin like her parents with long brown hair. She had shrewd-looking eyes that also seemed to be surveying the room.

The girl waved the wand and sparks flew from the end of it; the man who was hidden from view behind the girl's father clapped, as did her parents, and the girl handed it back to the man who had first given it to her.

'Well done, Frieda!' the girl's father cried, whilst she was hugged by her proud-looking mother.

A box was given to the girl, and Leanne could only assume that it now contained the wand that she had tried out. They turned around and tried to exit the shop, which was made difficult by the fact that Leanne and her mother was blocking what little remaining room remained. A lot of apologies were uttered as everyone tried to squeeze around everyone else, and finally, after Leanne had been accidentally jabbed in the face by the man's elbow, and her owl had done a lot of hooting, she had managed to get around them as the girl and her family exited the shop.

'Ah, good afternoon,' said the man who had been hidden from view up until now; he was obviously the owner of the shop and had wide, pale eyes that looked Leanne up and down multiple times.

'Hello,' said Leanne's mother uncertainly. 'I'm here to buy a wand for my daughter…'

'But, of course,' said the man, who Leanne assumed was Mr Ollivander. 'Why else would you be in a wand shop?' He smiled at Leanne's mother as he removed a tape measure from his pocket. 'Ah yes, I remember now. Your son has already visited me before, hasn't he? About three years ago if I am not mistaken.'

'Yes, that's right,' Leanne's mother replied, as Leanne looked in curiosity at the tape measure, which was measuring the length between his shoulder and forefinger by itself. Mr Ollivander, meanwhile, conjured a step ladder from nowhere with his own wand, using it to reach the topmost shelves.

'I also remember selling a wand to your father, many years ago now, of course,' Mr Ollivander continued, and Leanne ignored the tape measure for a moment, which was measuring the width of his fingers, and looked intently at Ollivander, who said, 'Yew, twelve inches, with the hair of a unicorn tail, if I remember correctly. Dear me, it certainly is a tragedy what happened to your father. I certainly hope that you and your brother don't end up like him.'

Leanne could only assume that what Mr Ollivander meant by this was that he didn't want Leanne and Roger to end up dead, but before her mind could dwell on this, a wand was thrust into her hand and Ollivander said, 'Vine wood, ten and a half inches, dragon heartstring.'

Leanne waved the wand as she had seen the other girl do so, expecting sparks to fly out of the end, but nothing happened, but it disappeared from her hand almost at once, and it took Leanne a few seconds to realise that Ollivander had snatched it from her hand, and had removed another box from a shelf. This one, however, fared no better than the first one, and once again, Mr Ollivander removed it from her hands quicker than she could anticipate what was going on, and another wand was being thrust into her palm.

It took Leanne nine goes before finding one that worked. On her tenth go ('Willow, dragon heartstring, eleven inches,' Mr Ollivander had declared), Leanne felt a warm feeling in her hands and sparks suddenly shot from the end of the wand. Leanne felt incredibly pleased with herself, and glanced back at her mother, who a very unconvincingly happy smile on her face, obviously trying to be pleased that her daughter now had a wand; perhaps she had been hoping that Leanne would never find a suitable wand and that she wouldn't be able to go to Hogwarts.

Mr Ollivander swiftly packaged the wand into a box and handed it to Leanne, whilst her mother paid seven Galleons for it. He bowed them politely from the shop, Leanne feeling happier than she had ever felt before. She had a wand, she had an owl (that was hooting quietly in the cage that her mother was holding), she had a place at Hogwarts…Her hands were still shaking from excitement as they headed back up Diagon Alley towards the Leaky Cauldron, and the only thing that could spoil Leanne's happiness now was the fact that she had over a month to wait before she would be catching the Hogwarts Express with her brother and finally going to Hogwarts.


	4. Chapter 3: Aboard the Hogwarts Express

– **Chapter Three – **

Aboard the Hogwarts Express 

**Leanne had never experienced a slower month in all her life; time seemed to dawdle so slowly that Leanne was sure that she would die of boredom before September 1st arrived. **She kept herself busy most of the time by reading her new magical books (only prevented from being locked away by her mother by Leanne pleading with her for several days), which turned out to be very interesting. In _A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot_, Leanne learned about ancient wizards during the Middle Ages, though by far the most interesting book to Leanne was _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander_, which detailed many magical beasts, such as the ten species of dragon, and the kelpie, which lived in Loch Ness, causing many Muggles to believe that a large sea serpent lived in its waters.

Leanne was also extremely happy with her new owl, which she had named Silverstone. He seemed like a very laid-back bird, though rather clumsy, Leanne had noticed when she had first let him out; he swooped around the room, dragging the curtains down and attempting to eat _A History of Magic_. It took considerable effort to cram Silverstone back into his cage, and when her mother found saw the mess that he had made, she wasn't pleased. Leanne was careful to make sure that the window was open the next time she released a ruffled-looking Silverstone, for he headed straight out into the darkness and only returned in the early morning to present Leanne with a freshly caught vole.

Her mother had been right; Roger wasn't pleased with the fact that Leanne now had an owl and he didn't, and muck sulking had ensued, during which he hardly spoke or looked at Leanne, seemingly more content to believe that neither her nor her new owl didn't exist. Leanne didn't mind too much. Roger not speaking to her was only a minor punishment for having an owl, which was used to send the reply to Hogwarts a few days after their visit to Diagon Alley. Leanne was unsure whether it knew the way, but it returned the next day with no letter in its talons, so Leanne could only assume that it had been delivered safely.

As the days slipped inexorably by, Leanne became more and more excited, and more and more anxious, about going to Hogwarts, and as August started to draw to a close, Leanne's hands were trembling so much that everyday things, such as having a glass of milk, proved quite tricky; the milk sloshed over the walls, and Leanne was forced to wipe it up hastily before her mother discovered the mess.

When Leanne awoke on September 1st, she almost didn't believe it. She was sure that something would have happened to prevent September 1st from arriving, such as August deciding to have en extra day, but as Roger peered into her bedroom (having stopped ignoring Leanne few days ago) and shouted excitedly, 'Come on, we're going to Hogwarts!', Leanne leapt out of bed and rushed downstairs.

Though the entire family had awoken early, and Leanne was moving at a speed faster than was advisable through the cluttered house, they still didn't seem to be ready as the morning wore on; everyone rushed around, trying to stuff their robes and books into their trunks, as Silverstone escaped from his cage and made a nuisance of himself by flapping around their heads, sending feathers flying. Leanne ate breakfast so fast that her mother was sure she would choke, and tried to brush her hair and clean her teeth at the same time, with the result that she ended up brushing thin air, and toothpaste splattered all over her face. Roger nearly killed Leanne as they collided on the stairs and somebody accidentally sat on Silverstone.

As Roger scraped together the last of his belongings, Leanne hurtled downstairs with her trunk and was astonished to see that the door to her father's study was open. She crept slowly towards it, eager to peer around the door and see what resided within, when her mother strode from the study and locked the door behind her. She turned around, and jumped to see Leanne standing there.

'Oh, you gave me a fright,' she muttered, clutching her chest.

'What were you doing in there?' Leanne asked suspiciously, noticing that her mother was holding something in her hand.

'I went in to find this,' her mother said, revealing the item that she was holding; it was a gold locket. 'It once belonged to your father, and after he died, I found a note in his study, saying that I was to give you this when you were old enough. And now I believe you are old enough to have it.'

'Er…wow,' Leanne said, unsure what to say as she was given the gold locket. It was very beautiful and had strange markings all around it. It gleamed dully in the hallway light.

'It once belonged to your father's own father,' Leanne's mother explained. 'I never really met him, but I heard he was a powerful wizard in his time. Apparently, it's quite famous in the wizarding world – created by somebody very well-know, if I'm not mistaken.'

'But…but why did he want to give it to me?' Leanne asked, puzzled. 'Why not Roger? He was born first.'

'I don't know, I wondered that when I first read the note,' her mother said softly, 'but I don't want to disrespect your father's wishes, so here it is. Keep it safe somewhere, and I advise you not to tell Roger about this, or he'll be quite sore…he still hasn't gotten over the owl business…'

Leanne nodded and quickly stashed the locket away in a pocket as Roger appeared in the hallway, dragging his trunk behind him. Leanne's mother, meanwhile, was looking anxiously at her watch; it was approaching half-ten.

'What time do we need to catch the Hogwarts Express?' Leanne asked.

'At eleven,' her mother replied.

'And were do we catch it from?'

'King's Cross Station, in London,' her mother said.

'In London?' Leanne yelped. 'We'll never make it. It's a three-hour train ride away. What are we – ?'

'Whoa, calm down,' Roger said. 'We don't need to get the train to London. We go there by Portkey.'

'By – by what?' Leanne asked.

'Portkey,' Roger repeated. 'It's an object that's magically enchanted, so that when you touch it, it will transport the person to a location, in this case, King's Cross Station.'

'Oh right,' Leanne said, very relieved. 'Well, where's this Portkey thing?'

'Somebody from the Ministry of Magic will be arriving shortly with one,' Roger explained. 'They came last year, and the year before that, remember? We just told you it was a salesman because we knew you would be jealous and start throwing things…'

'Yes, well…' Leanne muttered, 'I just hope he gets here soon.'

However, no sooner had she said it than there was a sharp rap on the door. Everyone jumped, including Silverstone, whom Leanne had finally manage to get back in his cage, and Leanne's mother hastened to open the door. Standing just beyond it was a man who seemed to have had a disaster in a clothes shop; he was wearing a raincoat over what seemed like a bathing costume and had heavy, army-style boots on his feet. It could not have been clearer that this man, obviously a wizard, had attempted to dress like a Muggle to blend in with the Muggle neighbourhood, but had failed spectacularly, and was drawing more odd looks from people on the street than he would have done if he had just been wearing robes.

'Hello madam,' the man said to Leanne's mother, and inclined his head at both Roger and Leanne. 'Everything is packed and everyone is ready to go, I presume.'

'Very good,' the man continued after Leanne's mother had nodded, who was looking somewhat embarrassed that someone wearing such atrocious attire had knocked on her door.

The man invited himself in and closed the door behind him, pulling from an inside pocket of his raincoat what looked like a musty book. Leanne looked at it; it certainly didn't look like what Leanne had imagined a Portkey to look like, quite the opposite in fact.

The wizard withdrew a wand from another pocket, pointed it at the book and said, '_Portus!' _

The book glowed blue and trembled slightly before returning to its normal appearance.

The man turned his attention back to Leanne's mother and said, 'Okay, the normal procedure everybody, let's do this as fast as possible. I'll be sending your belongings on ahead of you,' he added, as Leanne made to grab Silverstone's cage and her trunk.

Leanne didn't know what the normal procedure consisted of, but she followed her mother's lead as she grabbed hold of the book; Roger did the same, and the wizard said, 'One…two…three…'

Leanne was jerked forwards immediately, as if something had grabbed her from behind her naval. Her feet left the ground; there was a howl of wind, a flash of swirling colours and Leanne banged into something. It was a few seconds before she realised it was her brother, who was speeding alongside him. She was still holding on to the book, as if it were leading them onwards, but then her feet hit the ground. She staggered, unstable, into Roger, who also nearly toppled over; her mother moved out of the way as the musty book fell to the ground.

Leanne looked around; the three of them (all looking rather windswept now) were standing in what looked like an alleyway. There was a loud noise that sounded as though it had come from a train. They must be close to the train station now, Leanne knew, which was just as well, since it was quarter to eleven.

She jumped; both Roger's and her own trunk, along with Silverstone and his cage, had appeared out of thin air beside them, Silverstone looking largely unimpressed.

'Quickly,' their mother chided, as Leanne and Roger grabbed their belongings and started dragging them behind them; she led her children back on to the main room, where they saw the station ahead of them; they grabbed trolleys for their trunks and headed into the station.

'What platform do we catch the train from?' Leanne asked, looking around at the multitude of platforms, aware that Silverstone was attracting a few odd looks from passing Muggles.

'Nine and three quarters,' Roger replied.

For a moment, Leanne was sure that she had misheard Roger, but before she could say anything, Roger and her mother had stopped, looking at something. Leanne tried to follow their gaze, but the only thing that lay ahead of them was a wall in between platforms nine and ten, though it didn't look special enough to warrant the prolonged investigation Roger and their mother seemed to be giving it.

'The platform is through there, dear,' Leanne's mother said to her daughter, pointing to the solid wall. 'It's obviously magical…you can just pass straight through it…but I can't, being a Muggle or whatever, so I'll have to say my goodbyes now.'

She descended on Leanne and Roger and kissed and hugged them both, before saying, 'Okay then, Roger, you go first so you can show Leanne how it's done.'

Roger nodded, grabbed his trolley and started pushing it towards the solid wall between the platforms, picking up speed as he went. Leanne looked after him, alarmed; he was going to smash into the wall…but no…he vanished. Leanne blinked and looked up at her mother, who smiled.

'Goodbye, dear,' her mother said, kissing Leanne again. 'Use your owl to write to me when you get there. And have a good time. And make sure you don't get into trouble…'

Leanne nodded and turned back to the wall that Roger had vanished through. The hand holding Silverstone's cage was trembling so much now that Silverstone was being bounced around inside it, and he hooted indignantly. The other hand firmly gripping her trolley, she began pushing it towards the wall ahead of her, which looked alarmingly solid. She glanced back at her mother, before taking a deep breath, looking at the wall again and picking up speed, the trolley rattling ahead of her.

She was a few metres away now…she was going to smash into it…she tried to slow down, but the momentum carried her forward…and suddenly, she was standing on a platform next to a scarlet steam train that was billowing smoke. A sign above said _Hogwarts Express, 11 o' clock_. Leanne glanced at her watch; it was five to eleven. After a quick glance back at the wall she had come through, she moved off across the platform, which was quickly emptying; people were boarding the train before it left. The few people that were left were mainly children about the same age as Leanne, saying goodbye to their parents. A cat nearly tripped Leanne up as she headed for the carriages, and Silverstone hooted at another owl as they passed. She scanned the platform for her brother…

'Hey, Leanne, over here!' Roger called out, and she spotted him climbing into one of the carriages. Noticing that it was nearly eleven, she hurried after him, and with great difficulty, managed to heave her trunk into the carriage, Silverstone being bashed around in his cage an awful lot. Roger appeared from the crowd that filled the carriage, most of whom were leaning out of windows to wave goodbye to family members, and helped Leanne pull the trunk into the train.

'There's usually a few empty compartments near the end of the train – you'd better head there,' Roger said. 'I've got a carriage here with a few of my friends. I'll see you when we get there, I guess.'

Leanne watched as Roger entered a carriage with his friend Bradley and a few other people that she didn't recognise, and she felt oddly alone and nervous.

A whistle sounded and the train began to move as Leanne pushed her way through the crowd that lined the aisles; a pale boy with a pointed face jostled Leanne impatiently, but before she could turn around and look at him, he had vanished into a nearby compartment. She continued around the train, looking into every compartment, but noticing that most were filled with chatting students. Sidestepping a round-faced boy, who seemed to have misplaced something, for he was scurrying around on the floor, Leanne looked into the last compartment, which was empty aside from one girl. Knowing there was nowhere else to go, Leanne slid open the compartment door.

'Er…is it okay of I sit here?' Leanne asked quietly, as the girl looked her way. 'I can't find anywhere else to go…'

The girl nodded slowly, and Leanne entered the compartment, heaving Silverstone's cage and her trunk up into the luggage rack. The girl watched her do this, and when Leanne turned around to look at her, she recognised her as the girl who had bought a wand before her at Diagon Alley; like she had done back then, the girl had a shrewd, calculating look in her eyes as if she was suspicious of everything. She seemed to have a black blanket over her lap.

'Er…I'm Leanne Davies,' Leanne said uncertainly, sitting down opposite the other girl.

'Frieda McFarlan,' the other girl said, though it was in a rather brusque manner, and Leanne got the feeling that she didn't seem to trust or have time for strangers. 'This is Rabnott,' she added, and it took Leanne a few seconds to realise what she was pointing at; the thing that she had thought was a black blanket was actually a rather obese black cat, which was snoring softly on Frieda's knees.

'Oh…this is Silverstone,' Leanne said, feeling that she ought to introduce her own pet as well. A small silence invaded the compartment until Leanne said, conversationally, 'Looking forward to going to Hogwarts then?'

'Yeah, it should be fun,' Frieda replied, and Leanne was relieved to see that she was half-smiling now and looking a lot more relaxed. 'I come from a wizarding family, so I know quite a bit about magic, but I've never really practise it, so I don't know any spells.'

'Well, my father was a wizard, but he died when I was young,' Leanne explained, glad they had found something to talk about, 'so I was brought up by my Muggle mother, which means I know virtually nothing about magic and stuff like that, apart from what my older brother, Roger, has told me. Do you have an older brothers or sisters at Hogwarts?'

'No, I have a younger brother called Oliver,' Frieda replied, 'but he won't be starting until we're in our third year. My parents went to Hogwarts, though – they both said it was an excellent place – of course, Dumbledore wasn't Headmaster then…'

As the Hogwarts Express sped into the countryside – the land outside the train was getting wilder and wilder – Leanne and Frieda continued talking, and Leanne soon found out that once Frieda was relaxed and at ease, she was a very pleasant person to talk to. Her father worked at the Ministry of Magic, Leanne was intrigued to learn, and he had also once been the Captain of the Montrose Magpies, a Quidditch team. Compared to Frieda's father, neither Leanne's mother nor father had done not spectacular, that she knew about, at least, and the most interesting thing she could tell Frieda was of her father's death.

'Yeah, there was a loss in my family as well,' Frieda said softly. 'My uncle was killed by the Death Eaters. Hard times, they were, according to my parents. At least You-Know-Who has gone now, and so have all his followers…Hey, talking about You-Know-Who, did you know that Harry Potter is on the train?'

Leanne looked up sharply. 'Harry Potter? Really?' she asked excitedly, having been told about him by Roger, and reading his name in a few of the books she had purchased. 'But yeah…he'll be our age now, won't he? I wonder if he remembers anything about that night when You-Know-Who attacked him…?'

'We could try and find him on the train,' Frieda suggested, but as they got up, the compartment door slid open; beyond it was a trolley laden with food, being pushed by a smiling witch.

'Anything off the trolley, dears?' she asked kindly, and their search for Harry Potter forgotten about, both Leanne and Frieda plunged their hands into their pockets, withdrew some money and dived towards the trolley.

It was full of sweets of every kind, though they weren't the Muggle sweets Leanne was used to; they were much more extravagant and interesting, such as Peppermint Toads, that apparently hopped realistically in your stomach; there were exploding bon-bons, Liquorice wands (that looked like real wands, but tasted great), as well as an assortment of other sweets that did nothing magical, but were delicious nonetheless, such as Cauldron Cakes, Pumpkin Pasties, Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, which came in every single flavour, according to Leanne, and Chocolate Frogs. Dishing out some money, Leanne and Frieda grabbed as much as they could and retreated back into their compartment, eager to devour the sweets.

For Leanne, it was as if she had entered another world; the sweets were amazing, though she could have managed quite easily without the garlic tasting Every Flavour bean, and was very cautious about eating them afterwards, always nibbling a corner first to see what they tasted like. The Chocolate Frogs, however, were extremely interested and not only contained a chocolate frog (which was, thankfully, not a real one), but also a Famous Witch and Wizard cards. By the time she had made her way through the Chocolate Frogs, Leanne had a small collection, which consisted of Merlin, Elfrida Clagg, Herpo the Foul and Gwenog Jones, who turned out to be the Captain of the Holyhead Harpies. The people in the pictures of the cards moved around, which fascinated Leanne and she watched in amusement as Herpo the Foul dozed against the edge of his picture.

'That reminds me,' Frieda said, her mouth full of Pumpkin Pasties as she noticed the Gwenog Jones card that Leanne was holding, 'what Quidditch team do you support?'

'Er…well, I've never really supported any team,' Leanne replied, 'but my brother supports the Appleby Arrows.'

'I support the Falmouth Falcons,' Frieda said, and she started talking about some of its players, which Leanne was only vaguely listening to as she cautiously took a bite out of another Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Bean.

The compartment door slid open and someone said, 'Well, well, if it isn't mummy's little girl', before Leanne could even register that there was someone there; she looked over and saw the hard-faced girl called Pansy that had bumped into her at _Flourish and Blotts_.

'I'm surprised you can even get to Hogwarts without your mummy's help,' the girl sneered, and Leanne quickly became aware of another girl standing next to her, who was just as squarely built and with a heavy jaw.

'What do you want?' Leanne asked warily.

'Just looking around at some of the people in the train,' the girl named Pansy said unpleasantly. 'I'm hoping to be in Slytherin when I get to Hogwarts – seems like the best house. No such chance for you too, though…you'll probably end up in Hufflepuff…'

'Goodbye,' Frieda said coldly, even though Pansy or her friend hadn't made any effort to leave.

Pansy glared at Frieda, who looked unperturbed, and sneered, 'And who are you?'

'Frieda McFarlan,' she said coolly.

'Ah, yes, my father told me about Hamish McFarlan – your father, I'd imagine?' Pansy said, jeering at Frieda. 'Use to be the Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports, didn't he? Now he's just a lowly Ministry worker in the Department for the Regulation and Control for Magical Creatures, isn't he? What happened, did he get demoted? It wouldn't surprise me,' she sniggered.

'As a matter of fact, my father wanted to change his career path,' Frieda said calmly. 'What about you? What was your mother – a hag?'

Pansy growled and advanced towards Frieda, but stopped suddenly; Rabnott had leapt to his feet and was hissing at Pansy, who looked uncertainly at the cat and backed slowly away. With one last sneer towards Leanne and Frieda, the two girls exited the compartment.

'Wow, good work,' Leanne said to Frieda, impressed.

'It was nothing,' Frieda said modestly. 'I guess I've just learned to take care of myself. She didn't sound like the nicest girl in the world, it has to be said – and she wanted to be in Slytherin!'

Leanne had learned about the four houses at Hogwarts from her brother. Slytherin was the house which usually contained wizards that ended up practising the Dark Arts. Many Death Eaters that had attended Hogwarts had been Slytherin; even You-Know-Who himself had been a Slytherin. Leanne imagined that she'd end up in Ravenclaw like her brother.

'Both of my parents were in Gryffindor,' Frieda said, 'so that's probably the house that I'll be in as well.'

'Oh,' Leanne said; she didn't want her first friend in Hogwarts to be placed in a different house than her.

The compartment door slid open again.

'What do you want now?' Leanne and Frieda snapped together, thinking it would be Pansy and her friend again, but it wasn't; it was a bushy-haired girl, who looked around the compartment with quite a stern face. She was accompanied by a round-faced boy, the one that had been on his hands and knees in the aisle when Leanne had been walking down the train.

'There's no need to be rude,' the girl said, and Leanne noticed that she had a bossy voice. The round-faced boy, who was lingering behind the girl, looked into the compartment nervously. 'I only wanted to ask if anyone has seen a toad,' the girl continued.

'I've not seen a toad,' Leanne said, looking around to make sure a toad hadn't managed to creep into the compartment.

'Oh,' the girl said, sounding disappointed. 'It's just that we've asked everyone else – and some people weren't very polite, I can tell you.' She glared at Frieda, who looked unfazed. 'Neville here has lost one – the poor toad could be anywhere by now.'

Neville hadn't said anything, though it was probably due to a combination of shyness and the fact that the bushy-haired girl was talking too fast for Neville to put in a word.

'Wait, you've been down the train, have you?' Frieda asked, suddenly interested, and the girl nodded. 'You haven't seen Harry Potter have you? I heard he was on the train…'

'I've seen him, yes,' the girl replied. 'He was with a boy called Ron Weasley. He's only a few compartments up. Well anyway, I must be off, I'm going to ask the driver when we'll be arriving there…'

Leanne glanced out of the window as Neville and the girl left; they must have been travelling for a number of hours now – the countryside was whipping past, looking wilder than ever, and it must have been late afternoon now, for the sun was hanging lazily in the sky.

'Come on,' Frieda said, jumping to her feet. 'Let's go and find Harry Potter – see if he remembers anything about when he was attacked by You-Know-Who…'

Leanne followed Frieda out of the compartment and down the aisle. Frieda stopped suddenly in front of her and pointed through the window of a compartment. Two boys were sitting down, one of them with jet black hair and glasses, the other with flaming red hair and freckles. Leanne instantly recognised the boy with the black hair as Harry Potter, because of the lightening shaped scar he had on his forehead.

'That's Ron Weasley,' Frieda said, pointing to the red-haired boy. 'I've heard of the Weasley family – they've all got red hair. But who are those three?' She pointed to three other boys who was standing up, looking down at Harry and Ron, though Leanne couldn't tell what they looked like because they had their backs turned.

There was an almighty yell that made Leanne and Frieda jump; someone in the compartment was swinging around, sounding in pain, and something that resembled a rat flew off his finger; the three boys made for the door and Leanne and Frieda leapt back; they quickly exited the compartment and fled, though not before Leanne got a look at them. Two of them were large and mean-looking, whilst the third was pale, with grey eyes and a pointed chin. Leanne knew it was him who had jostled her unkindly when she had first got on the train.

'Look!' Frieda said, pointing.

The bushy-haired girl was striding back down the train, looking highly unimpressed. Leanne and Frieda wisely headed back to their compartment before they received an earful from the girl, who looked as though everyone else around her deserved to be punished.

They dived back into their compartment, startling a sleeping Rabnott as they sat back down. A quick glance out of the window told Leanne that they must be nearly there; there were mountains in the distance, under a rapidly darkening sky.

'We'll be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes times,' a voice said, echoing around the train, which made Leanne feel excited and elated all over again, bouncing eagerly on her seat. 'Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately.'

Leanne stood up, grabbed her robes and pulled them on quickly; they were almost there.


	5. Chapter 4: The Sorting Ceremony

– **Chapter Four– **

The Sorting Ceremony 

**As the train slowly ground to a halt, everyone left their compartments and pushed their way through the crowd that had gathered, heading for the door. **Leanne and Frieda did the same, leaving their belongings, Silverstone and Rabnott behind as they fought through the crowd and stepped onto a cold, dark platform outside, which was called Hogsmeade Station, according to a large sign.

'First' – years!' a loud, gruff voice called out, and Leanne turned to see a lamp bobbing towards them. 'Firs' – years over here!'

Leanne, Frieda and the other first years moved through the throng to where the lamp was, and Leanne saw who was holding it. Her first thought was that it was a giant, for the man before he was certainly larger than any other man she had seen. His face was almost entirely hidden by a wild beard and long, shaggy hair.

'C'mon, follow me – any more firs' – years? Mind yer step now!' he called out, as he led the first years down from the platform and onto a dark, narrow path (the other years headed in a different direction). Leanne and Frieda stayed close together, looking around nervously. The moon, large and pale, did nothing to illuminate the dark pathway upon they were walking, and neither did the lamp held by the hairy giant.

'Yeh'll get yet firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec,' the giant called out, 'jus' round this bend here.'

Leanne looked in awe at the castle that came into view. Roger had told her what it looked like, but nothing prepared her for this. Standing atop a large mountain on the other side of a huge black lake was Hogwarts, looking tall and proud, it's many towers and turrets stretching high into the star-filled sky. Many of its lights were on, looking like great glow worms in the distance. Many people gasped and gaped it at.

'No more'n four to a boat!' the giant said, pointing to several rowing boats on the edge of the lake; as people scrambled forward, Leanne and Frieda leapt into the nearest boat, joined by two other girls, both of them twins by the looks of things.

As the boats started moving forward on their own, Leanne looked down at the surface of the lake, which was smooth and black. Gliding along, the boats made no ripples, and soon Leanne turned her attention to Hogwarts, which loomed ahead of them. Most other people, Leanne noticed, were also staring up in silence at the towering castle.

'Heads down!' the giant yelled, who was in a boat by himself, owing to his large size; the boats had reached the cliff, and everyone lowered their heads as the boats carried them through a curtain of ivy and into a large opening in the cliff face. They went silently down a tunnel until they emerged at what seemed to be an underground harbour. Leanne, Frieda and the twin girls quickly clambered out of their own boats, and watched everyone else do so as well; the giant did so with difficulty.

'Trevor!' someone yelled out happily; turning, Leanne saw the giant tipping a toad into Neville's outstretched hands, but then they were climbing a passageway in the rock, following the giant's lamp, before they stepped out onto a damp lawn right next to the castle.

They walked up a small flight of stairs and gathered around the massive front door. The giant checked to see that everyone was present and then knocked three times on the castle doors with fists that could make a dent in a truck. The door opened, and a tall woman stood before them. If Leanne had thought that the bushy-haired girl looked stern, then the witch before her was even more so. Her hair in a bun, and dressed in emerald robes, she looked down impressively at the students gathered around her.

'The firs' – years, Professor McGonagall,' the giant explained.

'Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here,' Professor McGonagall said curtly, and held the door open for the students to pile through; they entered an entrance hall with flaming torches and a sweeping staircase that led to the upper floors.

Walking quickly across the flagged floor, Leanne, Frieda and the other first years followed Professor McGonagall into a small room off the entrance hall. She started talking about a Sorting Ceremony, though Leanne was barely listening. She was so excited about finally being in Hogwarts that she was shaking all over, peering around nervously, sure that something was sure to go wrong. Leanne only started listening when Professor McGonagall started talking about house points and a House Cup, which would be awarded to the house that accumulated the most house points by the end of the year. Leanne's mind started wandering again, thinking about what subjects would be taught, and it took her a while to realise that Professor McGonagall had left the room.

A scream brought Leanne to her senses again. She looked around, expecting to find trouble, but was shocked to see nearly two dozen ghosts floating through a wall. A short, plump ghost stopped and spotted the first years, exclaiming, 'New students! About to be sorted, I suppose.'

Everyone was in too much shock by the fact that they were being addressed by ghosts to say anything; a couple of people nodded nervously as they looked towards the transparent ghosts.

'Hope to see you in Hufflepuff,' the ghost said. 'My old house, you know.'

As the ghosts floated through the opposite wall into what must be a room next door, Leanne heard a sharp voice from behind her: 'Move along now. The Sorting Ceremony is about to start.'

It was Professor McGonagall, who had returned and told the first years to form a line, which they did so silently. Her nerves returning and her heart pounding, Leanne found a place towards the back of the line and followed Professor McGonagall out of the small room, back into the entrance hall and through a pair of double doors into a huge room. Beneath hundreds of floating candles, there were five long tables, each filled with golden plates and goblets; four tables faced a fifth, which was undoubtedly the staff table, since it looked to be filled with teachers. In the middle, atop a large, throne-like golden chair, sat the Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. He was tall, old and had long silver hair and a long silver beard that must have reached his waist. His eyes twinkled as he surveyed the first years behind his half-moon spectacles. The students, which was sitting at the other four tables, looked at the first years and occasionally pointed, as Professor McGonagall led them towards the staff table and stopped them in a line so that they were facing the other students, who were now staring mutely as Professor McGonagall placed a four-legged stool before the first years, atop which a pointed wizards hat was perched.

Leanne stared at the hat and was taken aback when a rip appeared near the brim, rather like a mouth, and the hat began to sing. It called itself the Sorting Hat, Leanne discovered as she listened to the hat's song and it spoke about the four different houses. She now realised that the houses had their own tables. The table on the far right seemed to have hard-faced, menacing-looking students sitting at it, and Leanne assumed that they were Slytherins, for everyone else seemed pleasant and kind.

There was a sudden burst of applause; the Sorting Hat had finished its song and now lay silent on its stool. They just had to try the hat on, Leanne now knew, and it would tell them which house they were to be placed in, though Leanne was feeling rather self-conscious about trying it on in front of the entire Great Hall.

'When I call your named, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted,' Professor McGonagall explained as she reappeared on the scene holding a long roll of parchment. 'Abbott, Hannah!'

A girl with pigtails exited the line, put on the hat and sat down on the stool.

'HUFFLEPUFF!' the Sorting Hat shouted after a moment's pause.

As Hannah Abbott rushed over to the Hufflepuff table, Leanne looked upwards and thought at first that the Great Hall had no ceiling, for she could see a jet black sky dotted with stars, but she quickly realised that it must have been some sort of magical enchantment. She looked down again in time to see Susan Bones being sorted into Hufflepuff as well, and she scurried off to sit next to Hannah.

'Boot, Terry,' Professor McGonagall read from the list.

'RAVENCLAW!' the hat shouted out a moment's later, and Terry went over to the Ravenclaw table, which clapped loudly.

'Bulstrode, Millicent,' said Professor McGonagall after 'Brown, Lavender' had become the first new Gryffindor.

The squared faced girl who had been with Pansy in the train stepped forward, and the hat shouted, 'SLYTHERIN!'; Millicent hurried off the Slytherin table.

After 'Chambers, Duncan' became a Ravenclaw and 'Crabbe, Vincent', one of the mean-looking boys who had been with the pale boy in Harry Potter's compartment, became another Slytherin, Leanne became aware that she would be soon, and sure enough, a second later –

'Davies, Leanne,' Professor McGonagall said.

Her legs shaking, Leanne stepped out of the line and walked slowly towards the Sorting Hat. Sitting down, she pulled the hat over her head and waited silently for where the hat decided to place her.

'Ah yes, brave and courageous, I can already see that,' a small voice that must have been the hat's said in her ear. 'A thirst for knowledge, but not as much as your brother – a good heart as well. I suppose I'd better put you in GRFFINDOR!' The hat shouted the last word to the entire hall, and surprised that she had not been placed in the same house as her brother, removed the hat and walked shakily towards the Gryffindor table, which was clapping loudly. Along the way, she caught sight of Roger on the Ravenclaw table, who was looking as surprised as Leanne felt, but was clapping politely nonetheless.

Feeling dazed, Leanne hardly noticed as 'Finnigan, Seamus' became another Gryffindor, and 'Goyle, Gregory' became a Slytherin; by the time she finally focused on the Sorting Ceremony again, Professor McGonagall was saying, 'Granger, Hermione.'

The bossy, bushy-haired girl stepped forward eagerly and placed the hat on her head, which shouted, 'GRYFFINDOR!' a few seconds later. Leanne clapped, rather half-heartedly, as Hermione joined the Gryffindor table and started talking to Lavender Brown. The Gryffindor table was clapping again a few moments later when 'Longbottom, Neville', the boy who had lost his toad, became a Gryffindor as well.

'Malfoy, Draco,' said Professor McGonagall and the pale boy who had been in Harry Potter's compartment stepped forward arrogantly and no sooner had the hat touched his head when it shouted, 'SLYTHERIN!' and he swaggered off to join Crabbe and Goyle on the Slytherin table, looking very proud of himself.

'Macmillan, Ernie' became a Hufflepuff, and then suddenly Professor McGonagall was saying, 'McFarlan, Frieda'. Leanne sat up straighter as Frieda stepped towards the Sorting Hat. A moment after she placed it on her head, it shouted, 'GRYFFINDOR!' and Leanne was clapping louder than everyone else as Frieda happily made her way over. Frieda sat down next to Leanne, and they looked back towards the line as the Sorting Ceremony continued.

'Nott, Theodore' became another Slytherin, as did 'Parkinson, Pansy', the pug-faced girl who had been on the Hogwarts Express and in Diagon Alley. She had obviously gotten her wish, Leanne realised, as she walked happily over to the Slytherin table.

'Patil, Padma' and 'Patil, Parvati', the twins that had shared Leanne and Frieda's boat were sorted next and Leanne was even more surprised to see that one of them became a Gryffindor, whilst the other became a Ravenclaw. The clapping from the Gryffindor table as a rather startled Parvati sat amongst them quickly subsided, as Professor McGonagall said, 'Potter, Harry.'

The name certainly caused a great deal of commotion, as people started muttering and hissing to themselves; some of the smaller students craned their necks to get a better look, and even the ghosts, which only now Leanne realised were hovering along the tables, looked mildly interested, none more so than a ghost at the Gryffindor table, who was wearing a pearly white ruff.

Harry Potter jammed the hat on his head, and a moment later, it yelled, 'GRYFFINDOR!'. He looked as dazed as Leanne had felt when she had been placed in Gryffindor, and she clapped loudly as Harry approached. Two older students, twins with red hair, who were no doubt related somehow to Ron Weasley, seemed particularly happy as they jumped up and down. Even the ruffed ghost looked proud.

Once the cheers had died down, Leanne looked back to the front and saw that only a few people remained. 'Thomas, Dean' became a Gryffindor, as did 'Weasley, Ron', and his brothers cheered and clapped again. Another relative, even older than the twins and rather pompous-looking, but again with red hair, shook Ron's hand as Ron sat down.

Professor McGonagall rolled up the scroll and took the stool away as 'Zabini, Blaise' became a Slytherin.

Leanne turned her attention expectantly towards the staff table. Albus Dumbledore sat in the middle, beaming, and Professor McGonagall took a seat by his side. Perhaps most noticeable was the hair giant, who was sitting at the end, presumably so he could exit and enter his chair with relative swiftness, though other teachers also caught her eye; there was a hook-nosed, greasy-haired man, a man with a turban and another man, diminutive in size, looking like he might be like a goblin from a distance. But her attention was once again caught by Dumbledore, who had got to his feet with his arms open wide.

'Welcome,' he said happily, 'to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you.'

As Dumbledore resumed his seat, everyone clapped and cheered, which Leanne thought was a bit of an over reaction for just the use of a few strange words, but she had heard stories about Dumbledore before – amazing, powerful and modest, though slightly odd at times. But the clapping stopped almost instantly, as Leanne looked down and realised that the once empty plates and goblets were filled with food and drink. It took Leanne a few moments to observe the immense variety of food before her, but she eventually grabbed a roast chicken and began eating.

She looked around at her fellow Gryffindors. The Weasley family was highly noticeably, especially the eldest, who sat taller than most other students, and his flaming hair was the most visible. The twins were patting Ron on the back as he tried to eat a potato, almost choking, whilst the eldest was having a conversation with Harry Potter. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, who seemed to have become good friends already, were chatting excitedly, and even Hermione Granger seemed less bossy-looking than usual, though that was probably because she had a mouth full with Yorkshire pudding. Neville Longbottom, meanwhile, was looking relaxed for the first time ever as he tucked into his food, being careful to keep a hold on Trevor the toad, which was attempting to climb into Dean Thomas' gravy.

'Who do you reckon that teacher is?' Frieda asked suddenly, pointing to the sallow-skinned teacher with greasy black hair that Leanne had noticed before.

'Professor Snape,' said a voice from behind them, before Leanne could say anything; they both turned and saw the ghost with a ruff standing – well, floating – there. 'He's the Potions master – and him there, he's Professor Quirrell,' he pointed to the man wearing a turban, who looked positively frightened, as if nothing more scared him than a good feast, 'and he teaches Defence Against the Dark Arts.'

'I take it you're the Gryffindor ghost,' Frieda said bluntly.

'Yes I am,' said the ghost proudly. 'My name is Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington.'

'Yeah right,' said a boy with dreadlocks, who was sitting just behind Sir Nicholas. 'Everyone calls him Nearly Headless Nick – it's much easier – show them Nick…'

Nearly Headless Nick sighed, but reluctantly grabbed his left ear and pulled; his head swung off his neck and on to his left shoulder, though it was still connected by what must once have been a few strands of flesh. It seemed like someone had done a very poor job of trying to behead Nick when he was still alive.

Leanne turned back to her food and glanced around the other tables. Roger was talking to some of his friends on the Ravenclaw table, and on the Slytherin tables, Draco Malfoy and his cronies were sniggering about something, whilst Pansy Parkinson tossed her head back in laughter. On the staff table, Dumbledore was looking serenely around at the students, and at the end, the giant named Hagrid was drinking quite deeply from a goblet that was twice the size as every other one in the room.

'Professor McGonagall is the Head of Gryffindor house,' Nearly Headless Nick went on, pointing to her with a transparent finger as she spoke to a dumpy little witch with flyaway hair. 'Professor Snape is the Head of the Slytherin house, Professor Flitwick is the Head of Ravenclaw,' he pointed to the tiny wizard, 'and Professor Sprout the Head of Hufflepuff,' he pointed to the witch with flyaway hair. 'Usually, the teachers get on well, but when Quidditch and the House Championship is involved, relationships can get a little testy at times. Especially when Slytherin is concerned – they've won the House Championship for six years in a row, and have recently been winning the Quidditch cup as well…'

As everyone leant back from their food, full to bursting, it all vanished and was soon replaced with puddings of all varieties, including ice cream, apples pies and chocolate éclairs; suddenly, everyone realised that their stomachs weren't as full as they thought, and leaned forward eagerly to eat the newly appeared desert.

'…very excited about the subjects, of course,' a voice said as it drifted across the table. 'Can't wait to get started.'

It was the voice of Hermione Granger, and she seemed to be having an in-depth conversation with the eldest Weasley, who was listening very intently to what Hermione had to say.

'Hey, Percy, you want a jam doughnut?' one of the Weasley twins called out, holding up the food in question.

'No, thank you,' Percy Weasley replied stiffly and resumed his conversation with Hermione.

There was a thick splash and it seemed that Trevor had finally managed to escape from his master and had leapt into a bowl of rice pudding, sending it splashing everywhere; Lavender Brown seemed to have been on the receiving end of it, and, now covered in rice pudding, looked venomously at Neville and Trevor. Percy quickly leapt to the rescue however, pulling out a wand and saying, _'Scourgify!' _

The rice pudding disappeared from Lavender in a flash, as did the bowl of rice pudding and the rest of the food, though the latter was likely because desert was over and not because of Percy's spell. With the food gone, everyone quickly became silent and turned towards the staff table, where Professor Dumbledore had climbed to his feet again.

'Ahem – just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered,' he said, looking around the room. 'I have a few start-of-term announcements to give you. First years should take note that the forest in the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well,' he added, as the Weasley twins exchanged smirks. 'I have also been asked by Mr Filch, the caretaker, to remind you that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.'

This disappointed Leanne somewhat; she had been eager to hex Pansy Parkinson as soon as she had learned a suitable spell.

'Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term,' Dumbledore went on. 'Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally,' he said, his eyes tinkling in the candlelight, 'I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a painful death.'

This caused a bit of muttering, and many people turned towards Dumbledore, as if expecting a reason for this, but he had already moved past the subject and was saying, 'And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!'

Many people now had strained smiles on their faces as the song begun, and others muttered the words, including many of the teachers. Leanne didn't know the words, so couldn't do much except listen to everyone else. Fortunately, the song was over soon, and Dumbledore dismissed the students. The first years were told to follow the prefects to their common rooms, which for the Gryffindors, turned out to be Percy Weasley, who led them out of the Great Hall, up the sweeping marble staircase and through the darkened corridors of Hogwarts.

The castle seemed like a maze with many hidden doors; they went through sliding panels and through doors hidden behind paintings. Leanne hung towards the back with Frieda, looking around as they went, noticing that many people in their portraits were observing the first years with interest as they walked briskly and nervously past.

As Leanne looked down a corridor, she saw, by the light of the burning torches, something small scurrying across it, but its shadow quickly vanished around a corner. Leanne blinked, wondering what on earth it could be. It looked much too small to be a student, yet it seemed to be walking on two legs. However, before Leanne could investigate further, the group moved on and Leanne was forced to catch up with them.

They finally reached a large portrait at the end of a corridor on what must have been the highest floor. 'Password?' the woman in the portrait asked, who was quite fat and wearing a pink dress.

'Caput Draconis,' Percy Weasley said, and the portrait swung forward to allow them entry; there was a hole behind it, which everyone scrambled through, and emerged into the Gryffindor common room, which was a circular and cosy.

However, there was barely time to register the common room when Percy was showing them where their dormitories were – the girls on one side, boys on the other. Leanne and Frieda hurried up the spiral staircase beyond the door, feeling extremely sleepy and satisfied, followed by the other three Gryffindor girls. They appeared in another circular room, this time much smaller, with five four-poster beds with velvet curtains. Their belongings had already been brought up, Leanne saw, and Silverstone's cage lay open, which implied he had gone out for a midnight hunt. Rabnott, however, was sleeping peacefully on Frieda's bed.

'Goodnight,' Frieda said sleepily, removing Rabnott from her bed and lying down.

Leanne barely had time to said 'goodnight' as well; she dozed off almost as soon as she had flopped onto her bed and didn't even stir when Rabnott jumped onto her head.


	6. Chapter 5: Troubling Letters

– **Chapter Five – **

Troubling Letters 

**The sunlight steaming gently through the Gryffindor girls' dormitory awoke Leanne from her sleep.** She sat up, looked around with bleary eyes and, with a large grin, remembered where she was: Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. The fresh books, equipment and wand that she had recently purchased from Diagon Alley for use at Hogwarts lay at the foot of her four-poster bed.

Leanne quickly bounded out of bed, feeling excited and elated. She was the only one still in the common room, she quickly realised after glancing over the other four beds; everyone else must have gone down for breakfast. The only sounds came from Rabnott, who was purring contently on her owner's bed, which had been hastily made. Hermione Granger's bed, however, had been made perfectly and all of her clothes were piled neatly in her open trunk, which also seemed to have far more books than Leanne's did.

Leanne quickly got changed into her robes and headed down the stairs into the Gryffindor common room. It was relatively empty apart from a few fifth years, who were talking in a corner, and two excitable girls out of Leanne's year, Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, who had already appeared to have become good friends. They giggled and looked at Leanne as she passed them on the way to the portrait of the Fat Lady that led out onto the seventh floor corridor.

The castle was very intimidating; though she had come this way the previous night, she had been following Percy Weasley at the time, and her senses had been clouded by her overwhelming sense of excitement, which still hadn't faded fully. Trying to get down to the Great Hall, Leanne soon discovered, was harder than it first appeared. Some staircases had the annoying habit of moving around, which meant that you ended up somewhere different every time you went up or down them. Leanne must have gone up and down the same staircase at least seven times before he reached the desired corridor, and many passing students gave her funny looks as they passed by. Even worse than the moving staircases was the resident poltergeist, Peeves. He seemed pleasant at first, but after he had directed Leanne into the office of Argus Filch, the caretaker (who seemed less than pleased with Leanne's unannounced arrival), she realised that Peeves was probably quite mischievous, a theory that was soon proved when the troublesome poltergeist tried to topple a suit of armour onto Leanne as she passed by.

When she finally arrived at the Great Hall, slightly bruised from his encounter with Peeves and the suit of armour, she found that most of the other students were halfway through their breakfast. She scanned the Gryffindor table and quickly spotted Frieda, who was waving her wand and trying to turn a sugar bowl into something else, with little success.

'Hi,' Leanne greeted as she dropped down onto the bench next to Frieda and helped herself to a nearby plate of bacon. 'How did you manage to get down here so fast? I got lost about eight times.'

'Me too!' Frieda exclaimed, sounding rather proud of this fact as she finished off her porridge. 'I wandered into a cupboard and got locked in there for about twenty minutes until Professor McGonagall let me out. Speaking of McGonagall…'

Leanne looked up and saw that Professor McGonagall, the head of Gryffindor house, was walking down the Gryffindor table handing everyone their timetables. Leanne looked eagerly at hers once she'd received it; there was a plethora of subjects that looked as though they were exclusive to magic school, judging from their names, which included Potions, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, Charms and Transfiguration amongst others. Frieda was looking at hers with less enthusiasm, Leanne soon noticed, though it was probably because she came from a large wizarding family and was no longer excited by such things.

Leanne memorised the subject that she had first after breakfast (Transfiguration), put the timetable in her robes and focused on finishing her bacon, looking around the table as she did so. Many students had open letters nearby, and some were reading newspapers, the _Daily Prophet_. Frieda had gone back to trying magic spells, this time joined by Dean Thomas and Lavender Brown, though the most she managed to do with her wand was knock the sugar bowl over Hermione Granger's newspaper, who looked most annoyed and glared at Frieda for several moments until she decided it was best to put his wand back into her robes.

'I've got Transfiguration first thing as well,' Frieda said as she compared their timetables after breakfast was over, and they found themselves being pushed out of the Great Hall by the huge surge of students. 'In fact, we've got exactly the same lessons. Excellent!' She paused and looked around. 'Erm…I don't supposed you know where Transfiguration is, do you?'

Leanne didn't know, but a passing Nearly Headless Nick was happy to point them in the right direction. It didn't stop them from getting lost, however and by the time Leanne and Frieda had reached Transfiguration, the lesson had already been going on for several minutes, though they didn't seem to have missed much since half the class still wasn't there. Leanne had an image of them trying to navigate the corridors with a prowling Argus Filch and a cackling Peeves following them. Indeed, the fact that Dean Thomas was panting and smelled slightly of singed clothing seemed to suggest that he had had a run-in with the resident poltergeist on the way here. Leanne expected to be reprimanded by Professor McGonagall, who happened to be the Transfiguration teacher, but she was understanding and barely even batted an eye when Neville staggered in ten minutes later, claiming that Trevor had tried to make a bid for freedom out of one of the castle windows.

'Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts,' Professor McGonagall explained when the entire class had found their seats and pulled out their textbooks. 'Anyone messing around in my class will not return. I hope I make myself clear. Now, who can tell me what the study of Transfiguration is about?'

Though a few hands rose lazily into the air, Hermione Granger's hand shot up like a rocket, narrowly missing Leanne's right ear.

'Miss Granger?' Professor McGonagall asked.

'Transfiguration is a study of magic that enables one to change the appearance and form of an object into a completely different one,' Hermione declared in her most authoritive voice and Leanne had an inkling that she had memorised the definition word for word from one of the textbooks.

However, Professor McGonagall seemed impressed. 'Well done,' she said with a rare smile that just didn't seem right on her usual stern-looking face. 'Take five points to Gryffindor.'

Hermione didn't stop there though and proceeded to answer Professor McGonagall's next four questions, each time raising a hand so fast that after the third question, nobody bothered to compete with her; on the fourth question, she raised her hand so fast that she actually hit Leanne in the side of the face and was too busy answering McGonagall's question (about Switching Spells) to bother apologising. After each successful answer, Ron Weasley, who was sitting a few seats down from Hermione, sniggered quietly to Harry Potter.

Professor McGonagall then turned herself into a cat and back and transfigured some of the desks into farmyard animals. This came as a bit of a surprise to Leanne, who had been leaning on the table with her elbow when it suddenly transformed into a pig and sent her books tumbling to the floor. After she had picked them up and the pig had been turned back into a desk, Leanne, along with the rest of the class, seemed extremely excited to get started on their own, but were disappointed to learn that they wouldn't be using such powerful spells for a long time and were given matches to turn into needles. It was much harder than it appeared, and although Neville managed to accidentally strike his match, and set himself on fire, nobody apart from Hermione had managed to change their match at the end of the lesson, and even she had only managed to make it go silver.

Their next lesson, Leanne soon discovered after consulting his timetable again, was Herbology, which took place in the greenhouses in the grounds. This was a much easier class to get to, and a short trip later, Leanne, Frieda and the rest of the class were standing inside one of the greenhouses in front of a large bench in the middle of the room and wearing gloves. Their teacher was Professor Sprout, the dumpy witch with flyaway hair and dirty fingernails, who set them into pairs, though only after Hermione had answered another substantial amount of questions (this time, Leanne made sure to position herself as far away from Hermione as she could so as not to get whacked in the face again).

'Grab your Fanged Geraniums and put them into the plant pots,' Professor Sprout was saying, showing the class how to do so. 'Now, they can give you a nasty bite, so make sure you're wearing your gloves.'

The Fanged Geraniums were certainly feisty little plants, and even Hermione had trouble containing them. Naturally, Leanne and Frieda were even more worse off, though they could tell that other people were having difficulty as well; Ron Weasley had somehow misplaced his and was searching under the bench for it, whilst Harry Potter's decided to give him a sharp bite on the hand when he removed his glove for a split second to wipe his brow. Surprisingly, Neville, who seemed the forgetful type and completely hopeless at Transfiguration, seemed to have taken a shine to Herbology and managed to plant his Fanged Geranium relatively quickly, only knocking over a minimal amount of dragon dung compost.

At the end of the class, everyone trudged back to the castle, much dirtier and sweatier than they had been when they had entered the greenhouse. There was just enough time to wash before lunch began before heading down to the Great Hall for the second time that day to refill their already empty stomachs.

'Phew, who knew that magic would be so tiring?' Leanne said as they tucked into their dinner. She had simply assumed that magic was a case of waving a wand and saying the right incantations, though she obviously couldn't have been farther from the truth.

However, despite all the hard work that they had already done that day, Hermione Granger seemed to have decided that more was in order; even as she ate her roast chicken, she was reading _A History of Magic_, which was propped up against the salt shaker, perhaps in preparation of their next lesson, which was History of Magic. Leanne caught Frieda's eye, who had also been looking over at Hermione in disbelief, and shook her head.

History of Magic turned out to be an extremely boring endeavour. It was the only class taught by a ghost, Professor Binns, and the lecture on goblin riots would have actually been moderately interesting if it hadn't been for Professor Binns' immensely droning and monotonous voice. Easily the most interesting thing that happened during the lesson was Binns' arrival and exit through the blackboard, and even Hermione didn't seem her usual, textbook-reciting person during the lesson. Leanne and Frieda found it hard to keep their eyelids open, whilst both Seamus Finnigan and a boy from Hufflepuff called Justin Finch-Fletchley nodded off completely, the latter of whom fell off his chair in his slumber.

The last lesson of the day was Charms, which was much more exciting than History of Magic. At least they were allowed to use wands in this lesson, and their teacher, Professor Flitwick, a tiny wizard who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk, taught them how to use the _Alohomora _charm, which caused locks to open. Everyone was given a small box with a lock on it and the aim was to try and unlock it before the end of the lesson. Given the simplicity of the spell, it was met with relative success and even Neville managed to open his box (though, of course, Hermione completed the task phenomenally quick). Leanne was quite proud when her box finally unlocked for it was the first spell he had managed to do at Hogwarts.

No homework had been set that day, which was just as well, for Leanne was quite tired, what with all the traipsing they had done, and the fact that Professor Sprout had asked them to round up the last few Fanged Geraniums at the end of the Herbology lesson hadn't helped matters, though it had increased the number of cuts and bites on Leanne's hands. Both Leanne and Frieda got an early night's sleep and woke especially early, meaning they were amongst the first to arrive for breakfast.

Halfway through his cereal, Leanne was surprised by the sudden sound of flapping wings, and looking up, she saw hundreds of owls streaming into the Great Hall, circling the four tables until they found their masters, often dropping letters or parcels, though their aim could have been better, Leanne observed; parcels and letters were landing everywhere, including in cereal bowls, which forced Leanne to cover hers up whenever the shadow of an owl passed over her. Leanne half-hoped that she would receive a letter from her mother, but it wasn't to be. It wasn't that her mother didn't care, of course, it was probably because she wasn't used to sending letters and post by owl. With a grin, Leanne imagined her mother trying to tie a letter to an owl's foot and it flapping madly in her face.

'What's that?' Leanne asked, noticing that Frieda had received a letter from a beautiful snowy owl.

'Just a letter from mum and dad,' Frieda replied after opening it and glancing through it. 'Asking how my first day was and how I'm getting on. I suppose I'd better write to them back…'

She took out a quill and started writing on the back of the letter. Hermione, who was sitting across the table, had received the Daily Prophet from a small owl from the post office and had already immersed herself in its pages, despite the fact that she had not yet paid the postal owl, who was pecking at her fork to get some attention. Leanne looked across the table at the front cover of the paper; a headline proclaimed that investigations were continuing into a break-in at Gringotts bank, and the moving picture on the front showed an irritated looking goblin, but Hermione placed the newspaper down to finally pay the owl before Leanne could read on.

Leanne consulted her timetable after breakfast – it seemed like she had another busy day ahead of her. First off was double Defence Against the Dark Arts, followed by another lesson of Charms after lunch, a free period, and then Astronomy at night. As she and Frieda headed upstairs into a mostly empty corridor, she spotted a small shadow whipping across the corridor and out of sight.

'Did you see that?' Leanne cried, pointing to the space where she had seen the shadow, but Frieda, who had been busy talking about Exploding Snap, which she wanted to play afterwards, had looked too late.

'See what?' she asked, peering around.

'I saw a shadow running along the corridor,' Leanne explained, pointing, though it had long gone now, 'just like the shadow that I saw the other day on the way up to the Gryffindor common room. It looked like a small creatures or something.'

'Well I can't see anything, and I doubt Dumbledore would let creatures wander around Hogwarts,' Frieda said, shrugging.

Leanne once again tried to think what on earth it could be, eventually deciding that maybe she had imagined it, and they soon found a small crowd of students that was on its way to the Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson. Defence Against the Dark Arts was good in itself (they learned how to defend themselves against various nasty magical creatures, including how to placate a bowtruckle), but the fact that Quirrell's stammer made his every sentence seem twice as long caused the lesson to advance at quite a slow pace.

After Charms, during which they had perfected the _Alohomora _charm and had moved on to the Fixing Charm (which, in Neville's case, seemed to involve more breaking than fixing), Leanne, Frieda and the rest of the Gryffindors headed back to the common room for a few hours of rest and relaxation before Astronomy that night. Luckily, the older years were still in their classes, and Leanne and Frieda were able to find some empty chairs and claim them.

'Have you seen that girl who was rude to us on the train yet?' Frieda asked as they indulged in a game of Exploding Snap. 'What was her name? Pansy Parkinson, wasn't it?'

'Yeah,' said Leanne. 'She was sorted into Slytherin, which isn't really surprising, so I haven't really had the chance to see her. I guess I'll see her on Friday, we have Potions with the Slytherins then.'

Friday came much quicker than expected. Though Leanne enjoyed most of her subjects, both History of Magic and Astronomy were painfully boring, and it hadn't helped that Astronomy had taken place at night, which meant that everyone's eyelids had been heavier than usual, and Leanne had been so afraid that she might fall off the tower if she fell asleep that she had Frieda hit her with her telescope whenever her eyes started to glaze over. Luckily, they only had each subject once a week.

The other lessons, though interesting, hadn't been exactly easy, and although Leanne had known that she was a witch for a few months now, she didn't have much of a head start, and even Frieda, who had grown up in a large wizarding family, didn't know what she was doing half of the time. Luckily, the teachers were patient, and mistakes were allowed to be made, which was just as well, since they were extremely frequent, especially in Neville Longbottom's case, who had forced the class to evacuate the room during one particularly disastrous Charms lesson, during which he accidentally caused his table to bounce around the room, ricocheting off the walls.

Friday was the first day that neither Leanne nor Frieda got lost on the way to the Great Hall, and Leanne was surprised to see her owl, Silverstone, waiting for he as she sat down. He had a letter in his beak, and Leanne careful extracted it and tore it open excitedly to see what it contained.

_Dear Leanne,_

I hope you are settling in well. I'm sorry that I haven't had chance to write to you up until now, but I've been busy and I got confused about how to send letters by owl (I think the owl ate the first letter that I wrote). Anyway, I'm sorted now, and I have to admit that it's better than heading down to the post box to send a letter, though I still haven't got used to the fact that your owl keeps bringing dead mice into the house…

_Now, I don't know if you've heard (and I don't suppose you will have because Roger tells me that Hogwarts doesn't have televisions or radios), but we were robbed the other day _(Leanne blinked and read that part twice, shocked)_. I don't know how they managed to do it, but they managed to get inside without breaking any windows and doors, and they certainly messed up your dad's old study. They were obviously looking for something and I don't know if they managed to find what they were looking for, but I think that that old stone basin that was there has gone. I haven't a clue what it does, but I suppose it was something important or magical or they wouldn't have bothered taking it. Seems a bit strange, though; nothing else was taken, and there are more expensive-looking items in the study. I've sent the same letter to Roger, so I hope it reaches you both – your owl seems more interested in catching mice than delivering letters._

_Love from mum_

_(Tessa Davies)_

'What's wrong?' Frieda asked as Leanne looked up in shock.

'My house, it was robbed,' Leanne replied, looking over the letter again. 'Says somebody managed to get into the house without any sign of entry and they stole something from my dad's study. I guess whoever did this was a wizard, since my dad was too, and he kept loads of magical things locked away in there.'

'Sounds like they Apparated in,' Frieda mused, taking a bite out of her toast. 'What was stolen?'

'Er…' Leanne consulted the letter again. 'My mum says an old stone basin. Doesn't seem very magical to me.'

'An old stone basin?' Frieda repeated, having stopped chewing and staring at Leanne with a surprised expression on her face. 'That sounds like it's a pensieve, and if it is, then it's a very magical item indeed.'

'A pensieve?' Leanne echoed, not familiar with the word.

'Yeah, it's like a bowl where you can place memories that you might want to keep in case you forget them in your head,' Frieda explained. 'Except it's not just a memory, it's the actual reality of what happened at the time, not just your perception of what happened. I don't know what anyone would want with a pensieve unless it had certain memories that they wanted to look at,' she added with a frown. 'Do you know if you're dad's pensieve was full or empty?'

'I don't know,' Leanne replied truthfully, wondering how a bowl could be full of memories. 'When my dad died, I was only a baby, and my mum kept all of his magical possessions in his old study. I've never been in there and my mum only goes in every few months to make sure it's clean. If there are any memories in there, they must be old ones.'

'Perhaps the person who stole them knew your dad,' Frieda suggested. 'Perhaps he had some enemies that you don't know about…'

Frieda stopped talking and looked at something behind Leanne. She turned around and saw Roger standing there, holding what looked like an identical letter to the one Leanne had received. 'Did you hear what happened at home?' he asked. 'We got robbed.'

Leanne nodded and held up her own letter. 'Yeah, Frieda says that what was stolen may have been a pensieve judging from the description,' she said, indicating to Frieda, who nodded with a mouthful of cereal. 'You know, perhaps someone who knew dad a long time ago wanted to look at a specific memory or something.'

'I thought that too,' Roger agreed, 'but I don't know why they just broke in. They could have just asked mum to see the pensieve instead of Apparating in and wrecking his study. Unless, of course, they had a grudge against dad, or they were rivals. I just wrote back to mum, telling her what it was and if dad had any enemies when he was younger – ' he held up the said letter ' – and I was hoping I could use Silverstone to send it back.'

'Yeah, sure,' Leanne said, indicating that Silverstone was all his, but he was flapping around the table, sending feather flying into the butter and generally causing much annoyance for the other students.

'Thanks.' Roger managed to grab Silverstone and tied the letter onto his feet with a piece of string. 'Take that to mum,' he ordered the owl afterwards, and it flapped its wings (startling Lavender Brown) and took off towards the open window near the ceiling of the Great Hall.

Roger returned to the Ravenclaw table and the bell sounded shortly afterwards, indicating that the first lesson was about to begin, which, for Leanne and Frieda, was Potions with Professor Snape. Leanne forced herself to stop thinking about the robbery and followed Frieda as they headed down to the dungeons, where the Potions lesson took place. Everyone waited outside until Snape opened the door and told them, non-too politely, to enter the dungeon and stand behind a cauldron.

Leanne and Frieda did so, locating cauldrons that were next to each other, whilst Snape, who had pale, sallow skin, black eyes and shoulder-length, greasy hair, walked briskly to the front of the class and took the register. As he did so, Leanne looked around at the dark, dank room, which was complete with dripping water in a corner and various jars of pickled animal parts that resided on shelves that ran around the room.

'Ah yes,' Snape said softly, stopping at a point on the register. 'Harry Potter – our new celebrity.'

Everyone looked around to stare at Harry, who was standing beside Ron Weasley. Both of them were looking at Professor Snape apprehensively. A few students on an opposite table sniggered; Frieda nudged Leanne and nodded towards them. They were from Slytherin, Leanne noticed, and were led by the tall, pale boy called Draco Malfoy. Pansy Parkinson was standing next to him, jeering at both Harry and Leanne with her ugly, pug-like face. Leanne glared back as Professor Snape started talking about 'the subtle science of exact art of potion-making', as he put it, and seemed to ignore the mutterings of Malfoy and the other Slytherins, even though they were right under his nose.

Indeed, the notion that Professor Snape was biased towards Slytherins and despised Gryffindors seemed to gain more evidence as the lesson continued. Snape asked Harry Potter questions that, judging from nearly everyone's faces, were harder than handling Fanged Geraniums without gloves on, and deducted a point from Gryffindor when Harry calmly pointed out that Hermione seemed to have the answers that Snape required; indeed, Hermione was so eager to answer Snape's last question ('What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?) that she actually stood up, her arm outstretched.

The fact that Snape gave Draco Malfoy five house points for taking out his ingredients first (which was untrue, for Hermione had brought out her ingredients at the start of the lesson) didn't help matters and set them all into pairs to create a simple potions for curing boils. Well, it was described as simple, but both Leanne and Frieda were having immense difficulty in not only reading Snape's scrawling handwriting on the blackboard, but also following the instructions.

'Is it supposed to be purple?' Frieda asked fretfully, as she added more porcupine quills in the hope that it would turn the right colour.

'No, but it's also not supposed to be bright yellow,' Leanne replied, pointing to her own lucid and bubbling potion.

Snape stalked around the room, occasionally looking into everyone's cauldrons. He usually had only praise to give to the Slytherins and even congratulated Crabbe and Goyle on their potions, which looked worse than Neville's green, misty concoction. He passed along the Gryffindors without comment (though he did criticise Harry's potion), instead just jeering at what they had brewed, and even looked at Hermione's potion, which was undoubtedly the best in the class, with dissatisfaction. He was just telling the class how Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs, (whilst Pansy Parkinson sneered at Leanne from behind his back) when there was a loud hissing and Neville vanished behind a cloud of green smoke. His potion had obviously gone awry; his cauldron had somehow nearly melted away, and his concoction was seeping out over the floor, causing everyone to leap out of the way. Leanne almost laughed out loud when Pansy screamed and almost leapt into her own cauldron to escape from the green liquid that was now spreading around the room, though she quickly stopped when Pansy cast her a glowering and rather menacing look.

'Idiot boy!' Snape snarled at Neville, who had been thoroughly drenched in his own potion, and now had boils appearing up and down his body as Snape cleared the mess with a wave of his wand. 'I suppose you added the porcupine quills _before _taking the cauldron off the fire?'

A small whimpering noise from Neville indicated that Snape had been correct in his assumption.

'Take him to the hospital wing,' Snape snapped at Seamus, who had been working with Neville. Then, as the two of them left the dungeon, he rounded on Harry, who had been working nearby. 'You – Potter – why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Though he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor.'

Leanne thought this was highly unfair, and Harry seemed to think so too; he seemed like he was about to open his mouth and say something, but Ron muttered something to him across the cauldron and he remained quiet. Snape smiled evilly and returned to the front of the class. The Slytherins were looking extremely smug with themselves.

'I don't believe him!' Leanne moaned quietly to Frieda as they added dried nettles. 'How can he be so biased towards his own house like that? I mean, McGonagall deducts points from Gryffindor…'

Then, right on cue, Snape awarded Pansy Parkinson a point for doing seemingly nothing, and Leanne fumed, cutting up more nettles rather too violently, which soon attracted the attention of Snape, who quickly reprimanded her. She felt that she was lucky that she hadn't lost Gryffindor any more house points, and an hour later, as they left the dungeon, Leanne found out that every Gryffindor seemed to think the same way about Snape. Harry and Ron looked furious as they headed to their next lesson, and even Hermione, who seemed to like most teachers, thought that Snape had been highly unfair to them.

Leanne was just about to launch into another rant about how horrid Snape had been when Roger came bustling along the corridor towards her, a letter held tight in his hands.

'Hey Roger, what's going – ?' Leanne asked as he approached.

'I found this in my newspaper this morning,' he said, holding the letter up and sounding quite breathless as if he had ran here. 'It's addressed to you. It don't know who it's from.'

'In your newspaper?' Leanne asked curiously, taking the letter and looked at it. The front of the envelope simply said: _To Miss Leanne Davies_. The handwriting looked unfamiliar.

'Open it now, I want to know why it was in my newspaper and why it wasn't delivered directly to you,' Roger said, but someone suddenly called his name from across the corridor. 'Uh…hang on!' he called to them before turning back to Leanne. 'Okay, I need to go but find me later on and tell me what the letter says, alright?'

He vanished into the crowd and Leanne quickly found a quiet place in the entrance hall to open the letter, following by an intrigued-looking Frieda. Leanne opened the letter and they bent in to read what it said:

_Dear Leanne,_

_I know you do not know me, but I wish to speak to you alone. Do not worry, I don't mean to any harm and I will not be present in a form that is capable of harming you. Please be alone in the Gryffindor common room at midnight on Monday night. _

_From a friend_

'A friend?' Frieda asked sceptically once she'd finished reading. 'It doesn't sound like a friend if you don't know who they are. 'Please be alone'?' she added after rereading the letter. 'Sounds a bit ominous to me. I'd show that letter to a teacher.'

'Who do you suppose it could be from?' Leanne wondered, turning over the letter and trying to find a clue to the writer's identity, but found nothing. 'And how do they know my name?'

'A stalker?' Frieda suggested, rather unhelpfully. 'They also know what house you're in – look, Gryffindor common room. They're probably following your every movement. I'd seriously show that to someone else if I were you. Anyone could have written it.'

'Yeah, but I want to find out who _did _write it,' Leanne protested, after another examination of the letter and its envelope brought now new evidence to light. She was definitely intrigued now. She had always been the curious type, and a mysterious letter from an anonymous writer had only sparked her curiosity levels even further.

'At least show it to your brother,' Frieda pressed.

'No, he'll only interfere and call mum and then she'll get worried,' Leanne tried to explained as they headed towards the Great Hall for lunch. 'You can stay up with me. I know it says to come alone, but if we put a chair in a corner and you hide behind it, then you can listen to what's being said without being seen. That way, if whoever this person is means trouble, you can…oh, I don't know, throw a book at him.'

Hermione, who happened to pass at that precise moment, looked scandalised at the prospect of a book being thrown at someone, probably not because it was quite a mean thing to do, but because she didn't think that books were to be treated in that manner.

Frieda reluctantly agreed and Leanne ate lunch with an excited heart. She couldn't wait until Monday and find out who this mysterious person was, though Frieda was still wary. Roger came over shortly after, asking what the letter had been about, and Frieda nodded her head in agreement (a little too much for Leanne's liking) when Leanne said it had been from the post office, asking if she wanted to subscribe to the _Daily Prophet. _Seeing as the letter had been in Roger's newspaper, it seemed like a relatively good lie, and Roger soon left, though looking slightly suspicious after Leanne said that Silverstone had ate it. This wasn't far from the truth, however, as the owl had indeed managed to get hold of the letter, shredded it with her beak and later regurgitated it over Leanne's dinner.

'Hey, you don't think it had anything to do with the robbery, do you?' Frieda asked as she removed Silverstone's presence from her cutlery. 'Perhaps he's the guy that robbed you. You know, the person who took the pensieve.'

'Why would he want to speak to me?' Leanne asked, looking at the remnants of the letter in puzzlement.

'I don't know, which is why I think you should be extremely careful,' Frieda warned reprovingly.

Leanne was silent was a short while. Could it be possible that the person who had stolen the pensieve from her father's study somehow needed her for it to work? Maybe they thought that Leanne had some memories or something that they wanted to extract. That was highly improbably, Leanne thought to herself. She had been an extremely young baby when her father had died, and she had absolutely no recollection of him whatsoever. She was still excited about the prospect of meeting this mysterious writer, but she decided to take heed to Frieda's words and approach the situation very carefully indeed.


	7. Chapter 6: The Face in the Fire

– **Chapter Six – **

The Face in the Fire 

**Monday could not have arrived faster for Leanne.** The weekend flashed by exceptionally quickly, and apart from losing spectacularly at Exploding Snap seventeen times with Frieda, and completing some fiendishly difficult homework on Hiccupping Solutions that Snape had set them, Leanne couldn't remember an awful lot of what had happened. When Monday finally arrived, she barely appreciated the fact that she had been at Hogwarts for a week and instead bounded downstairs to the common room, preparing to get some breakfast but a small crowd that had gathered around the portrait, denying anyone from exiting.

Sidling through the mass of people, Leanne managed to get close enough to the front of the crowd to see what was so interesting; there was a notice pinned up on the wall, stating that Flying lessons would be beginning shortly and that Gryffindors and Slytherins would be practising together. Leanne groaned, imagining Pansy Parkinson's face if Leanne slipped and fell off her broomstick. But then again, Leanne wouldn't want to miss an opportunity to laugh at Pansy if she was rubbish at flying as well.

The reaction to this news was mixed. Some people, especially those from wizarding families, such as Frieda, Ron Weasley and Draco Malfoy, seemed particularly excited about the prospect and spent much of time telling anyone who would listen about their exploits that they had had on broomsticks. Indeed, Leanne became so irritated with Frieda's stories about how she narrowly escaped being killed by a biplane that she started searching her textbooks in search of a spell that would silence here, but unfortunately, came up with nothing.

On the other end, however, were those who were nervous about flying, Leanne included. She had never flown on a broomstick before in her life, and was afraid that she was going to fall off from great heights and kill herself. In a similar situation was Neville and although he came from a wizarding family, it came as no surprise to Leann that he had never been allowed on a broomstick before in his life, probably due to the fact that he seemed to cause accidents wherever he went. Hermione was just as nervous; she was Muggle born, and although she had done amazingly well in every other subject, she soon realised that Flying was not something that you could learn off by heart from a book.

Leanne's nervousness towards Flying took her mind off meeting with the mysterious person in the Gryffindor common room at midnight that night, but it also took her mind off Transfiguration, which Professor McGonagall was not happy about.

'Leanne Davies, would you please pay attention and prevent your centipede from escaping!' Professor McGonagall snapped, as the centipede that Leanne was supposed to be turning into a millipede scuttled towards the edge of the table.

Leanne hastily stopped it and tried to listen to what Professor McGonagall was saying about how to turn it into a millipede, but her mind kept wandering back to Flying lessons, and her falling off her broom from fatal heights, and it came as no surprise that when Professor McGonagall told them to do what she had asked, Leanne had as much difficulty turning her centipede into a millipede as Neville, and only succeeded in giving the insect a great deal of exercise as it ran around the table, completely unaffected by Leanne's attempts to transfigure it.

Herbology was next, and Leanne was pleased to know that they had moved off from Fanged Geraniums since she was sure that she would probably lose a finger if she had to handle the aggressive little plants in her distracted state. Today, they were doing the much more mundane task of pruning Abyssinian shrivelfigs. This time, they were placed in threes and Leanne and Frieda were joined by a boy called Ravenclaw whom Leanne had seen before but did not know the name of.

'Duncan Chambers,' he said, greeting them warmly. 'You are Leanne Davies, yes, your brother is in my house. And you are…?' he asked, turning towards Frieda.

'Frieda McFarlan,' she replied, looking slightly disgruntled that Duncan knew Leanne's name but not hers.

'Oh yeah, I've heard of the McFarlans,' he said, which made Frieda's expression turn much more friendly. 'You're a big pure blood family, aren't you? I'm only half-blood. What about you?'

'Half-blood as well,' Leanne retorted, seeing as the question had been directed at her, 'but I only knew I was a witch a few months ago because my mum's a Muggle and my dad, a wizard, died when I was young, and my mum thought I'd inherited her Muggle genes. It was only when I crashed a Christmas tree through a wall that I realised I was a witch as well. So, you know, I'm still quite new at the whole magic thing.'

'Quiet down over there!' Professor Sprout called out to them. 'All of your Abyssinian shrivelfigs need to be pruned before the end of the lesson.'

'Have you received a notice about Flying lessons as well?' Duncan asked, though speaking in a whisper now. 'I noticed that Gryffindors have got it with Slytherin. We're lucky – we've got it with Hufflepuff.'

'Yeah,' Leanne replied, and her worries of making a fool of herself, or killing herself, flooded back to her. 'I'm not looking forward to it, though; I've never been on a broomstick before.'

'Oh, I have,' Duncan replied, which did nothing to steady Leanne's nerves,. 'I'm a big Quidditch fan. I even play a bit of it.'

'Oh, yeah?' Frieda asked, becoming seemingly more interested in the conversation as she, too, was a fan of Quidditch. 'What team do you support? I support the Falmouth Falcons.'

'Wimbourne Wasps,' Duncan replied and the two of them started talking about various Quidditch teams and how good or bad they were depending on whether they liked them or not, and soon started quarrelling about how good the Kenmare Kestrels were (Duncan thought they were good, whilst Frieda did not), forcing Professor Sprout to once again shout at them to be quieter, though the argument continued, albeit in whispers.

With the lesson over, the two houses headed back to the castle, Frieda and Duncan still talking about Quidditch, and it was only when they had to go to different lessons that they stopped. Leanne's anticipation, meanwhile, was growing, this time because of the arranged meeting tonight. What if the person she had arranged to meet was unpleasant? What if the common room wasn't empty when the person arrived? Then a lot of awkward questions would be asked, and not only would Leanne get into trouble for withholding the letter, but Frieda would probably also get involved.

Since Flying lessons were taking place that day, the students would not be doing Charms. This came as a disappointment to many, for they would have rather missed History of Magic instead of Charms, and Leanne would much rather spent his time in a classroom, failing at a new spell, than making a fool of himself on a broomstick. Some others, such as Neville, also felt the same way, but Neville made a fool of himself in Charms anyway, so Leanne wondered why he cared whether he made a fool of himself in the air or with his feet on the ground.

After struggling to survive through a hideously boring History of Magic lesson, everyone trooped down to the lawn beneath the castle and saw that the Slytherins were already there. They sneered and grinned unpleasantly at the Gryffindors as they approached the twenty broomsticks that were lying on the ground in front of them. The Slytherins had already taken the best ones; Leanne looked down at her excuse for a broomstick and saw that it was chipped in several places, much of its tail was missing and someone (most likely one of the Slytherins) had spat on it.

As they waited for their instructor to arrive, the Slytherins jeered at the Gryffindors and Draco Malfoy and his cronies made a few snide remarks that were, fortunately, inaudible or Leanne had a feeling that a few wands would be being pointed towards him. Hermione had taken the time to extract a book from her bag, entitled _Quidditch through the Ages _and was reading through it desperately, probably trying to find a few last-minute tips, though all Leanne could see, as she peeked over her shoulder to look at the book, was a description of various Quidditch teams and fouls.

Their teacher, Madam Hooch, arrived soon after. She had short grey hair and resembled a hawk. 'Well, what are you waiting for?' she barked. 'Everyone stand up to a broomstick, stick your right hand over your broom, and say, 'Up'!'

This everyone did, though there seemed to be a low success rate. Leanne saw Harry's broom jump up to his hand immediately, and so did Malfoy's, but few others succeeded. Leanne's own broom didn't move at all, though judging from its pathetic appearance, it looked like it had given up a long time ago. Frieda's broom eventually rose to its owner's hands, though it took much persuasion. Luckily, not an awful lot of the Slytherins had succeeded either, and Crabbe and Goyle seemed to have decided to ignore Madam Hooch and were hitting each other with their broomsticks instead.

'Mount your brooms,' Madam Hooch said, and whilst she told Crabbe and Goyle off, Leanne quickly picked her broom from off the ground and mounted it so that the tail was behind her. Everyone else did the same, though Neville did so with much trepidation.

'Now, when I blow my whistle, kick off from the ground, hard,' Madam Hooch went on. 'Keep your broom steady, rise a few feet and then come straight back down by leaning forwards slightly. Okay, on my whistle then – three – two – '

But Neville had already pushed off hard before the whistle had been blown. He rose straight into the air, crying loudly as he did so. Madam Hooch shouted at him to come back down at once, but obviously, it was now the broom that was in control; Neville rose for twenty feet then slid backwards off his broom, landing with a sickening thud on the lawn in front of the students. Concerned though she was for Neville, Leanne was pleased to see that Pansy Parkinson, whilst diving out of the way to escape a falling Neville Longbottom, had whacked herself in the face with her own broom.

Madam Hooch raced over to where Neville was lying, dazed and bruised. She quickly examined him. 'Broken wrist,' she muttered. 'Come on, boy – it's all right, up you get.' She turned to the rest of the class, who had gone very silent. 'None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing!' she ordered them sternly. 'You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch'. Come on, dear.'

She helped Neville up and helped him back to the castle, his face tear-streaked and his face pale. Draco Malfoy erupted into laughter once Madam Hooch was out of earshot.

'Did you see his face, the great lump!' he exclaimed loudly.

'Shut up, Malfoy!' Parvati Patil snapped, and the other Gryffindors, Leanne and Frieda included, soon stepped forward, facing the smug-faced and jeering Slytherins.

'Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?' Pansy Parkinson sneered. 'Never thought you'd like a fat little cry baby, Parvati!' She turned toward Leanne and Frieda, who had been staring at her. 'What do you thinking you're staring at?' she snapped.

'I don't know, but it's ugly and it smells,' Leanne replied coolly, looking directly at Pansy's face, as Malfoy picked something up proudly from the ground; it looked like a Remembrall to Leanne as she glanced briefly at the red item in Malfoy's hands.

Pansy turned red in the face and stepped forward, her fist clenched. Leanne gulped; Pansy was much bigger than her, and would probably emerge the victor should the two ever resort to a fight. However, a fellow Slytherin, an equally large and ugly girl named Millicent Bulstrode, tapped Pansy on the shoulder and pointed.

Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy were in the air, Harry seemingly chasing Malfoy, who was still holding onto the Remembrall. Though the Slytherins were cheering Malfoy, and the Gryffindors Harry, Hermione looked like she might have a seizure; she looked thunderstruck that Draco and Harry had downright disobeyed a teacher, and was torn between shouting at Harry and tell him to return to the ground, and telling off Seamus Finnigan and a Slytherin named Theodore Nott, who had both drawn their wands and were glaring at each other venomously.

'Catch it if you can!' Leanne heard Malfoy yell and he tossed the Remembrall high into the air. Harry leaned forward and raced after it, his arm outstretched…He gathered speed and dived towards the ground, pulling up at the last second, the Remembrall clutched triumphantly in his hand. He quickly dismounted his broom to cheers from the Gryffindors (and dejected moans from the Slytherins), but they were suddenly cut across by a loud and familiar stern-looking voice.

'HARRY POTTER!'

Professor McGonagall was striding across the lawn, looking livid. Her eyes, which flashed from behind her glasses, looked more furious than ever before (even more so than when Dean Thomas had accidentally transfigured her desk into a hedgerow). She obviously hadn't spotted Draco Malfoy in the air, who had managed to sidle back to the ground without being noticed and had mixed back in with the Slytherins.

'Never – in all my years at Hogwarts – how dare you – might have broken your neck – ' Professor McGonagall seemed so angry that she couldn't seem to form coherent sentences.

'It wasn't his fault, it was Malfoy – ' Leanne exclaimed loudly, to extremely poisonous looks from the Slytherins.

'It wasn't his fault, Professor – ' Parvati agreed, shaking her head.

But Professor McGonagall did not back down, and after arguing with nearly every Gryffindor present (minus Hermione, who, of course, would never argue with a teacher), dragged Harry away, directing him back towards the castle. There was fury rising within Leanne's body, and judging from Frieda's strangled and red complexion, she was feeling it as well. That had been even more unfair that Snape's biased house point deduction; Malfoy had been the first on a broom, and Harry had only been trying to save Neville's Remembrall, which was now lying on the ground. Pansy made to pick it up, but Leanne grabbed it first. Pansy's wand was out in an instant (Hermione's eyes widened once more), but she daren't use it for Madam Hooch had returned.

The Flying lessons resumed, but Leanne was still angry. The Slytherins, meanwhile, didn't stop smiling all lesson and as soon as Madam Hooch's back was turned to sort out a problem with Seamus' broomstick, they showed obscene hand gestures to the Gryffindors and it was just as well that Madam Hooch turned around when she did, for Frieda looked as though she were about to impale a couple of Slytherins on her broomstick. Indeed, it was no wonder that the Slytherins were jeering and swearing; judging from Professor McGonagall's furious expression, Harry Potter wouldn't be staying at Hogwarts for much longer.

Leanne couldn't have been more wrong, however; during the evening meal, she saw Harry sitting with Ron across the table from her, looking about as happy as she had ever seen him.

'Uh oh, trouble,' Frieda muttered as Draco Malfoy appeared at the Gryffindor table to sneer at Harry, flanked, as he always was, by Crabbe and Goyle, but Leanne was more interested in a letter that Silverstone had just brought her.

It was from her mother. The letter stated that her mum didn't know if her father had had any enemies or not and went on to say that everyone should forget about it and enjoy themselves. Leanne decided that she would do, but realised, during the excitement of the Flying lesson, that had had forgotten that she would be meeting with the mysterious person in the Gryffindor common room at midnight.

After finishing in the Great Hall, Leanne headed up to the hospital wing to give Neville his Remembrall back to him. He thanked her. His broken wrist had been mended in an instant by Madam Pomfrey, the matron, though he was being kept in for a few hours.

'They were all laughing at me, weren't they?' Neville said sadly as he remembered his disastrous Flying lesson.

'Well, yeah,' Leanne replied truthfully, 'but that's only because they're Slytherins and none of them were nice and wizards and witches. Anyway, I need to be going now,' she added as she glanced at her watch and noticed that it was nearing nine o' clock. 'I've got…erm…some homework to be doing', and if Neville had been a less forgetful person, he would have realised that Gryffindors hadn't been set any homework that day.

Luckily, he bought the excuse and Leanne rushed back to the common room, where she spent the rest of the night with Frieda, engaging in another game of Exploding Snap (this time losing even more spectacularly because she was distracted so much) until eventually, Frieda grew tired of winning by such a large margin that she frowned and put the cards away.

The common room, which was packed at the start of the evening, started to become less crowded as the hours ticked away. The other first years headed up to their dormitories at about eight (which Hermione also advised Leanne and Frieda to do), followed by the other years shortly afterwards. Ron's older twin brothers, Fred and George Weasley, were the last to go to bed after playing with what looked like a salamander in the flames of the fire. Leanne glanced at her watch – it was quarter to twelve.

'You'd better hide behind that chair,' Leanne told Frieda, pointing to an armchair in the corner, and Frieda did so, making sure that none of her body parts were visible.

As it approached midnight, Leanne grew more and more anxious and began to wonder exactly how this person was going to get here. Unless they knew the password to the Gryffindor common room, they weren't going to get in through the portrait of the Fat Lady, and the windows were too small for anything but an owl to fly through. At first, Leanne thought that they might Apparate inside the castle, but she remembered that Hermione had said that no one could Apparate inside the castle or Disapparate out of it because of an enchantment that had placed over the entire school and its grounds. Puzzled, Leanne was once again back to square one when –

'Ahh!' Leanne screamed, lowering her voice as she did so, and jumped as she saw something in the fireplace.

It was a head, a man's head sitting in the middle of the flames, apparently not affected by the sparks and embers licking his ears. The startled salamander that Fred and George had been playing with before decided to find a new home.

'What the – ? How can you do that?' Leanne asked in amazement.

'Floo powder,' the man in the fire said dismissively. 'Anyway, I am glad to see you, Leanne. I'm happy that you've decided to meet me here.'

'Who are you?' Leanne demanded of the head. 'How do you know my name? Have you been following me?'

'Following you?' The man, or at least his head, chuckled softly. 'Of course not. I couldn't, even if I wanted to – security around Hogwarts is much to strict for me to bypass. But I have been setting someone else to follow you. My dear house elf, Wheezy, has been tailing you for a week now, ever since you arrived here at Hogwarts. He found out what house you were in and what your name was.'

'Oh, so that was what that small shadow was that I kept seeing,' Leanne realised suddenly, being careful not to look over to where Frieda was hiding behind the chair.

The man frowned. 'I guess he wasn't as good at following you as I had hoped,' he said.

'You still haven't answered my first question,' Leanne pointed out. 'What is your name?'

'My name is Derrick Travers and I was a friends of your father's, Leanne,' the man in the fire said, and Leanne looked at him shocked.

'A friend of my father's? And yet it's only now that you come to find me?' Leanne asked, suspiciously. 'He died eleven years ago, why have you waited for so long to come and tell me this?'

'Because,' Travers said with a sigh, 'I did not know you existed until very recently. As you probably know, you were extremely young when Evan – your father – died, and I had not spoken to him recently so I did not know that Tessa was even pregnant.' He sighed again and looked directly at Leanne. 'You may not like what you're about to hear, but I recently infiltrated your house and – '

'That was you?' Leanne accused, her voice rising in anger. 'Why? If you were a friend of my father's, why would you do that and steal that pensieve instead of just asking for it?'

'Yes, I know, it was wrong of me,' Travers sighed, closing his eyes. 'It's just that…I had heard rumours that Evan had kept a few memories in the pensieve from just before he died and I was eager to obtain them. You see, his death had always been a mystery to me; he was supposedly killed by Death Eaters, the followers of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, but I never found any evidence for that, and none of the Death Eaters that were captured admitted to killing him.'

'Wait, why would the Death Eaters kill my father?' Leanne asked, who had heard the story many times before from her mother, but she had never given a reason as to why he had been killed. 'And why weren't my mother, brother and I killed with him?'

'I'm afraid I do not know the answer to those questions,' Travers admitted, 'though I do know that Evan kept a very valuable magical ring at the time that was wanted very much by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and his followers at the time shortly before his death. I believe the fact that he possessed the ring may have led to him being killed. Indeed, the ring was not in your father's study when I looked…and I'm sorry about the mess I made by the way.'

'A ring? Leanne repeated, ignoring his apology. 'My father was killed over a stupid ring?'

'The evidence would support it,' Travers said slowly. 'However, it was an extremely valuable and powerful ring, and although I do not know what powers it actually possessed, I am nonetheless concerned that it ended up in the hands of Death Eaters…'

'But You-Know-Who is dead now, isn't he, and all of his followers have vanished, haven't they?' Leanne asked.

'Oh no, far from it,' Travers said. 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is not dead. Though he was extremely weakened when the Killing Curse that was intended to kill young Harry Potter backfired, he did not die, and has been living in the wilds of Europe for many years since then. I expect that he will never return to the power that he once had, but it is still worrying to think that he is still out there. As for his followers, the Death Eaters, however, they have not vanished; they have returned to living their lives that they had before they became followers of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Some of them claimed to have been under the Imperius Curse, which allows the caster to control the victim, whilst others were arrested. A few managed to escape and still await the day that their master will return.' He paused. 'However, I digress. I did not come here tonight to talk about Death Eaters and all such morbid things.'

'What did you come here for then?' Leanne questioned, still not sure why Travers had asked to meet her. 'Was it because you wanted to find that ring? Well, if so, I don't have and I didn't even know it existed until now so there's no point in – '

'Whoa, calm down,' Travers soothed as Leanne's voice began to rise hotly. 'I didn't come here for the ring; in fact, I couldn't care less about it. I came here to talk with you, that's all. Just to let you know why I didn't speak to you in these eleven years, and also to apologise for ruining your father's study. I would have apologised to Tessa as well, though I doubt she would have listened – she would have called those Muggle policemen on me probably…'

'So why did you want to meet me alone?' Leanne demanded.

'Because if anyone else knew that I was here and they told one of the teachers, you would be in a lot of trouble and so would I once they had found me,' Travers explained.

'So, you stole the pensieve, huh?' Leanne said after a moment's thought. 'Did you look at some of dad's memories?'

'Yeah, but there wasn't much there, a few memories when Tessa was expecting you and when he worked at the Ministry – nothing major – and no, you weren't in them, I'm afraid,' Travers said, as if reading Leanne's mind, for she was about to ask that question. 'I guess he didn't put any more memories into the pensieve after you were born.' He looked past Leanne into the common room. 'So, you made it into Hogwarts, eh? Enjoying yourself? Your father enjoyed himself when he was here.'

'Dad came to Hogwarts?' Leanne asked in surprise; this was a piece of information that his mother had not divulged with her, but then again, she thought, where else would he have learned everything. There were no other magical schools in Britain.

'Of course,' Travers replied with a smile. 'So did I. Seven fun years we had here. Wheezy's been telling me what's changed here – been making me reminisce lately. Dumbeldore's still the Headmaster, which is good – best Headmaster that's the schools ever had. Most of the other teachers were here when I was here as well; McGonagall, Flitwick, Binns, Sprout…even the groundskeeper, Hagrid. That Professor Quirrell's new, though.'

'How did Wheezy get inside the castle?' Leanne asked. 'I thought you couldn't Apparate inside it…'

'You can't, but house elves can,' Travers explained. 'They're magic is different from a wizard or witches' magic – they can get past most enchantments. Of course, as well as following you around, he's been helping the other house elves in the school kitchens so as to blend in.'

'There are house elves in the kitchens?' This came as another surprise to Leanne, who had not seen any house elves in Hogwarts before (apart from fleeting glimpses at Wheezy), but then again, he had never seen the school kitchens before, which he assumed were below the ground floor.

'Yeah, they prepare all the food and everything,' Travers replied. 'You can't keep on magicing that much food everyday for so many students. That's what the house elves – '

He stopped suddenly for Frieda had let out a tiny cough from behind the chair. She had obviously tried to hide it, but Traver's ears, obscured though they were licking flames, were not deceived. 'I need to go! Somebody's coming!' he cried. 'I'll speak to you again sometime, Leanne. I'll contact you when the time is right.'

'No, I – ' Leanne was about to tell him that it was only his friend, but his face had vanished from the fire.

When he didn't reappear for another few seconds, Frieda stood up tentatively from behind the chair and looked at Leanne apologetically for coughing.

'Wow…well, I…' Frieda didn't seem to quite know what to say and she shifted uncomfortably on her feet. 'He seemed friendly enough, but just don't take his word for it – you never know, he might be an impostor just pretending to be your dad's friend.'

'No, I think he was genuine,' Leanne said softly. 'I mean, he talked about when he and my dad went to Hogwarts. Anyway,' she added, after looking at her watch and noticing that it was half past twelve, 'we'd better get some sleep. We've got Astronomy tomorrow, don't forget, and we don't want to fall sleep. We'll talk about it tomorrow.'

And they hurried off to bed, both of them falling into a deep sleep the moment their heads touched their pillows.


	8. Chapter 7: Snape's Secret

– **Chapter Seven – **

Snape's Secret 

**Leanne and Frieda not only talked about it the next day, but for many days to come as the weeks slid by and October approached.** Frieda was still highly suspicious of Derrick Travers ('If that's even his real name,' she had muttered), but Leanne knew that she was very suspicious towards most people that she didn't know. Leanne, meanwhile, spent the next week wondering when Travers would make a return, and spent most days staying up late in the Gryffindor common room, half-expecting to see his face in the fireplace again, but nothing happened, and Leanne's schoolwork soon began to suffer from the lack of sleep she was suddenly getting.

Falling asleep in History of Magic was to be expected (Professor Binns, droning on, always failed to notice), but it was never wise to fall asleep in other lessons. Professor McGonagall was most annoyed when Leanne nodded off and squashed the woodlice that they were transfiguring, and Professor Sprout wasn't much happier when she nearly fell asleep too close to the Venomous Tentacula.

'Am I boring you, Davies?' Snape snarled unkindly as Leanne nearly nodded off in her own cauldron during Potions, much to the amusement of the Slytherins, who were laughing from across the room. 'Perhaps you have some suggestions that will make my subject more interesting?'

'No, sir, I find your subject very interesting already,' Leanne replied, still half-asleep.

'Clearly,' Snape said silkily, his lip curling as he saw the doodles that Leanne and Frieda had drawn on their copies of _Magical Drafts and Potions_ in their boredom. 'I'd say five points from Gryffindor for falling asleep in my lesson. And another five points for sheer incompetence,' Snape added smoothly as he saw that Leanne had made a Fatiguing Potion instead of a Calming Draught.

Leanne glared at the back of Snape's head as he crossed the classroom and declared loudly how good Draco Malfoy's potion was. Clearly, Leanne was not the only one angry at the Potions teacher; Frieda was now drawing on _Magical Drafts and Potions _with much more vigour than needed, and Ron Weasley was making a rude hand gesture at him.

By the time lunch arrived, Leanne felt like she had drank the Fatiguing Potion, she was that exhausted, and found a seat towards the back during Defence Against the Dark Arts, where she hoped to close her eyes for a while, but it just so happened that she had seated herself next to Duncan Chambers, who seemed happy to talk to Leanne again. Luckily, Duncan seemed to hate Snape just as much as she did, and Leanne, Duncan and Frieda spent much of the lesson abusing him.

'He always picks on me in Potions because he knows I'm not as good as most other people,' Duncan grumbled, as Professor Quirrell went on in the background about defensive spells.

'He picks on every single Gryffindor in our class,' Frieda muttered back, which was true; every single Gryffindor had had at least five house points taken off them (apart from Hermione Granger, though Leanne could tell that Snape had been trying for a long time to find an excuse to deduct some from her), whilst hardly any Slytherins had been punished.

Duncan turned out to be a very likeable person. He was a clever student and usually got very good grades in class, and although wasn't exactly the bravest person Leanne had met (owing to the fact that an unpleasant run in with Argus Filch had nearly resulted in him having a breakdown), he was kind. Though they only shared two lessons, Herbology and Defence Against the Dark Arts, they started hanging around in the courtyard during breaks, though they had to sit at separate tables during dinner and breakfast.

Flying lessons went on for a few more weeks, during which Leanne barely got any better. She only rose a metre or so above the ground, but she still kept slipping off, much to her embarrassment. Luckily for her, she wasn't the worst; Neville Longbottom kept tripping over his broomstick when it was even on the ground, Hermione was atrocious at flying (apparently, _Quidditch Through the Ages_ had not helped her at all, for Leanne caught her scowling at it on more than one occasion), and to Leanne's delight, Pansy Parkinson was also extremely abysmal and not only dive bombed into the ground, but she also knocked Madam Hooch clean off her feet.

By far the best flyers were Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy, and there had even been rumours spreading around that Harry had made it into the school Quidditch team, something that a first year hadn't achieved for decades according to Frieda. Obviously, this had made Malfoy extremely jealous and had resorted to showing off more, though on the last Flying lesson, he returned to the ground, red-faced, after getting entangled at the top of a nearby tree.

Leanne was pleased when the last Flying lesson had ended, not only because she was awful at flying, but also because she wouldn't have to listen to Frieda going on about how good she was really and that the school broomsticks had hindered her talent. Duncan, however, had found his Flying lessons much more enjoyable, saying that Madam Hooch had called him a natural on a broomstick.

'How was your Flying lesson?' Roger asked as he passed by the Gryffindor table during dinner.

'Horrid,' Leanne muttered, still pulling some grass from her hair after she had an unfortunate collision with the ground.

'That's a shame,' Roger said, though he didn't look sad, or even sorry for Leanne; on the contrary, he was grinning and a second later, Leanne found out why. 'I tried out for the Ravenclaw Quidditch team today,' he said excitedly, 'and I got in!'

'Oh, wow,' Leanne said, trying to sound happy for her brother. 'What position are you playing?'

'Chaser. Oh – ' He looked around as someone called his name out. 'Er…someone's calling me, I'll catch up to you later.' He vanished, heading for the Ravenclaw table.

'Great,' Leanne muttered to Frieda. 'Mum's going to be really pleased that Roger's on the Quidditch team…even though she doesn't know what Quidditch is…I suppose I could join the Gobstones club and tell mum that it only recruits the best wizards and witches…'

After dinner, Leanne and Frieda headed out into the entrance hall, but they found their way up the sweeping marble staircase blocked by a gang of Slytherin girls. Pansy Parkinson was leading the group and jeered at Leanne's face as she and Frieda approached.

'Do you want to get out of the way?' Leanne asked calmly.

'I don't think so,' Pansy replied with a huge grin, and her fellow Slytherins laughed and sneered.

'What's your problem, Parkinson?' Frieda snapped.

'Ooh, someone's a bit touchy today,' Millicent Bulstrode laughed as she stood beside Pansy.

'I'll tell you what the problem is, Davies,' Pansy snarled, no longer smiling now as she glared down at Leanne. 'I saw you laughing when I flew into the ground. You think you're so good, don't you? You think you're better than everyone else. But you're not. The only difference is your stupid father got himself killed when you were young.'

Leanne's wand was out of her pocket and pointing at Pansy in the blink of an eye; however, rather than intimidate Pansy as had been the desired result, Pansy merely smiled and carried on, realising she had found a weakness.

'I heard a lot of rumours about that,' Pansy continued with a massive smirk that Leanne would so dearly have loved to wipe off. 'Some say he refused to help You-Know-Who's followers; others say he actually helped the Death Eaters and was killed by the Ministry. Only a few people actually know. I mean, even without getting himself killed, he was still foolish – marrying a Muggle woman. That's just low…'

The wand forgotten about, Leanne simply leapt on Pansy Parkinson and pushed her to the floor. A quick glance to her left showed that Frieda and Millicent Bulstrode were similarly engaged, but Frieda had remembered to use her wand and seemed to have used a Jelly-Legs Jinx on Millicent, for her legs were wobbling uncontrollably and she nearly fell down the stairs. Leanne, however, wanted to cause Pansy as much pain as possible, but a voice from behind them quickly stopped them.

'What's going on here?' the silky voice of Professor Snape demanded as he emerged from the Great Hall and sent the small crowd that had gathered rushing for their common rooms so that only Leanne, Frieda, Pansy and Millicent remained.

'Sir, she attacked me for no reason!' Pansy cried, pretending to be hurt as she pointed accusingly at Leanne.

'No, she was saying stuff about my father, she provoked me!' Leanne tried to explain, but she could already see from the smirking, and slightly triumphant expression on Snape's face that he wasn't going to listen to anything that Leanne had to say.

'Detention, I think, would be a suitable punishment for Miss Davies,' Snape said, and Pansy gave up pretending to be hurt as a huge smile appeared on her face.

'Wait, that's not fair – ' Frieda protested.

'And a detention for Miss McFarlan for using magic in between lessons,' Snape added with a smile as he saw the brandished wand in Frieda's hand; he completely ignored the fact that Millicent was also holding her own wand and holding it in an even more threatening manner.

Leanne's blood was boiling now. She couldn't tell what was worse; the fact that she and Frieda now had detentions, or the fact that Pansy, Millicent and Snape were wearing such smug expressions that clearly said that they couldn't have been happier about the punishment.

'And ten points from Gryffindor,' Snape added. 'I shall expect you too in my office at eight o clock tomorrow night.'

Leanne thought it was best not to argue and simply glared at Snape, Millicent and Pansy as they walked away towards the dungeons. Once they were out of earshot, however, they received much abuse from Leanne and Frieda as they made their way angrily back to the Gryffindor common room. After about twenty minutes of solidly calling the Potions master names (including one particular rude word that caused Hermione Granger to flinch as she passed by), they had both reached a conclusion that Dumbledore must have an ulterior motive for allowing Snape to continue to teach at the school, for he really was one of the most unpleasant men she had ever met.

Indeed, the next day, when Pansy Parkinson purposely threw her Pumpkin Juice over Leanne during breakfast, Snape, who had been standing a few feet away, looked away pointedly as she did so and only looked back when Pansy had left, leaving Leanne drenched in the middle of the Great Hall. Predictably, Snape refused to listen to the claims that Pansy had done such a thing, even when fourteen eyewitnesses swore they had seen what had happened. Snape left, smirking, after not taking any house points off Slytherins, but instead warning Leanne that blatant lying would not be permitted in Hogwarts. The entire table of Gryffindors sat there, seething, and judging from Dean Thomas' expression, he very much wanted to throw the fork he was holding in a threatening manner at him.

Since it was a Saturday, there were no lessons, which meant the students were free to go wherever they pleased. They had some Charms homework, which Leanne and Frieda hurriedly completed (mainly by looking over the shoulder of Hermione Granger's shoulder), and then they went down to the Great Lake to bask in the warm sun. Many other students were there enjoying the warm weather as well, and they soon found Duncan amongst the Ravenclaws, and he joined them as they sat on the lake's shore, doing what they normally did nowadays; insulting Snape, the Slytherins or both.

'I can't believe he put you in detention for that!' Duncan raged. 'I mean, if someone had insulted my family, I'd have jumped at them as well. But he's like that in our class as well, but since there are no Slytherins to be biased towards, he just takes house points off both houses.'

'Wonder what he'll make us do in detention?' Frieda wondered gloomily as they watched the giant squid in the lake lazily raise its tentacles above water. 'Probably something really awful.'

'Look at the Slytherins,' Leanne said grimly, noting that a gang of Slytherin first years had appeared not too far away and were pointing and laughing at Leanne, Frieda and Duncan.

'Oh, how'd I'd like to wipe their smiles off their faces,' Duncan muttered, glaring at the Slytherins.

'Wouldn't we all, but we all know where that would get us,' Leanne replied. 'Detention with Snape, most likely. Hang on, they're coming over…'

Leanne, Frieda and Duncan stiffened as the gang of Slytherins, led by Draco Malfoy, strutted over to them, their smug smiles not leaving their faces. They stopped beside the three of them, who quickly stood up and stared coldly at them.

'Getting ready for scrubbing the dungeons tonight, I hope,' Malfoy smiled unpleasantly. 'Yeah, that's what your detention is going to be – I heard Professor Snape saying that someone had splattered dragon liver all over one of the dungeons, and he wants you to clean it all up.'

Leanne and Frieda glanced at each other and grimaced. It wouldn't have surprised either of them if Malfoy had splattered the dragon liver around the dungeon himself just so that they would have a truly terrible detention. Indeed, his wicked smile seemed to imply that either he or one of his cronies were responsible.

'And who are you? Duncan Chambers from Ravenclaw, aren't you?' Malfoy demanded, turning his attention to a stony-faced Duncan. 'I'd have thought you would have more sense than to hang around with losers like these two.' He swept his hand over Leanne and Frieda.

Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy laughed. Duncan looked like he was about to brandish his wand, but Leanne hastily stopped him.

'No, he's not worth it,' she said. 'He's just a slimy boy who uses his wealth to get what he wants. If anyone's a loser, it's you Malfoy. And I heard your father was a bit of a loser as well. Supported You-Know-Who a few years ago, didn't he? At least he disgraced the Malfoy name first and not you…'

'Never insult my father,' Malfoy hissed, drawing his wand and pointing it at Leanne's face.

'Or what?' Leanne asked coolly, fully aware that Filch was prowling the grounds not too far away, and would be thrilled at the opportunity to punish someone for breaking the rules.

Malfoy, who had also noticed Filch, scowled, and slunk away, Crabbe and Goyle behind him. Pansy remained behind just long enough to glare nastily at the three of them and then hurried after the Slytherins.

However, Malfoy had been right; when Leanne and Frieda reached the dungeons at eight that night to attend Snape's detention, they noticed that one of the dungeons was plastered with slime and bile. Leanne's heart sunk as she saw the extent of the mess.

'As you can see, some vile student has taken it upon themselves to assault my dungeons, and it will be your job to clean up this mess,' Snape explained, with a particularly cruel smile.

Leanne felt the urge to tell Snape that it had been Malfoy who had done it, but she didn't have any proof, and even if she did, Snape would just ignored her and taken another few house points from Gryffindor.

'Oh no,' Snape said, with an unpleasant smile that revealed his yellow teeth as Frieda had taken out her wands hopefully. 'No magic allowed. You will clean up this mess by hand. And if I find out that you have used magic, and I _will_ find out, more punishments shall await you.'

It was one of the most awful experiences of Leanne's life. They had to scrub the dragon liver off the walls and ceilings (which was virtually impossible to reach), and the sponges that had been given didn't seem to work very well; Leanne was sure that Snape had bewitched them to make their job even harder, so eventually, they resorted to using their hands to scrape the slime off the walls, which wasn't much better.

'Sir, shouldn't we get back to our common room now?' Leanne asked tentatively at ten o clock, as Snape entered the dungeon to see how they were getting on.

'But the mess has not been fully removed,' Snape said silkily, pointing to a particularly large piece of slime on the ceiling that had proved impossible to get to. 'No one is going anywhere until this dungeon is free of any remnants of dragon liver.'

'But, sir,' Leanne said hopefully, 'we're not supposed to be out in the corridors past ten. Our common room is on the seventh floor, and we might get caught if we leave too late.'

'Dear me, that is a shame,' Snape said softly, though Leanne could tell from his face that he could not have been more delighted by this fact. He left the room without another word, forcing Leanne and Frieda, grumbling, to try and remove the mess on the ceiling.

They were there for another forty-five minutes, and after Snape had inspected the dungeon four more times (deciding only on the fourth time that it was satisfactory), they were finally free to go, their hands blistered and dragon liver underneath their fingernails. They trudged up the steps to the entrance hall, which was eerily quiet and empty, and proceeded to make their silent way up to the Gryffindor common room. However, once they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, they realised there was a problem.

'The Fat Lady has gone!' Frieda cried, looking around frantically.

It appeared to be true. Though the portrait was still there, the Fat Lady had vanished, probably visiting other portraits in the castle as she often did late at night when she thought all the Gryffindors had returned to the common room.

'Stupid Snape,' Leanne muttered quietly. 'If he had let us out at ten, we'd be back in the common room now. Bet he knew something like this would happen – he just wants to get us into more trouble.'

'What do we do now?' Frieda wondered, looking at the portrait in case the Fat Lady made a reappearance.

'I guess we'd better find Professor McGonagall and tell her that Snape kept us behind late and now we can't get into the Gryffindor common room,' Leanne said after a moment's thought.

'We'd better be careful, though,' Frieda reminded her. 'If Filch catches us out of bed after hours, I don't think he'll give us much of a chance to explain ourselves…'

They set off back down the dark castle once again, heading down to the first floor, where McGonagall's office was located. It was quite scary at night, since the corridors were only lit by the occasional burning torch or beam of moonlight flitting through a window. They got a scare when the Bloody Baron, the Slytherin ghost, floated through a wall, but he simply ignored them and floated past them, his face gaunt and his transparent robes covered in what looked like silver blood.

'What's that?' Frieda whispered, freezing.

Leanne listened and heard the sound of footprints not too far away. Her eyes widened and her heart sped up; was it Flich? Perhaps another teacher? Leanne peered around a corner to see who it was and covered her mouth to muffle her scream as she ran into someone.

'Duncan! What the – what on earth are you doing?' Leanne whispered urgently, aware that her stifled scream had awoken a few people in portraits and were now looking down at the three of them in interest.

'I was heading to the library to return a book, and some Slytherins jumped me and locked me in a broom cupboard,' Duncan muttered, sounding quite embarrassed in the pale light offered from a nearby window. 'I've only just managed to get out and when I got back to the Ravenclaw tower, I found out that the password had changed and I can't get in. I was looking for a teacher or a prefect or somebody, but I haven't found any. What are you two doing up this late as well?'

'Snape kept us behind in detention,' Frieda explained stonily, remembering the horrid time they had had, 'and when we got to our common room, we found out that the Fat Lady has vanished so we can't get in. We were just heading to Professor McGonagall's office – you can come with us if you want, she might be able to help you as well.'

'Yeah, I might as well, it's better than wandering aimlessly around the corridors, waiting to be spotted by Filch or someone,' Duncan replied. 'And I can't find Professor Flitwick to ask him what the new password is…'

'Which Slytherins locked you in the broom cupboard?' Frieda asked as they headed along the corridor.

'It looked like Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle,' Duncan replied, looking nervously at the statue of Boris the Bewildered on the fifth floor, half-expecting it to jump into life and attack them.

'I'll kill them,' Frieda muttered to herself, and she really did look as though she would like to lock Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle in the broom cupboard with a hungry dragon.

They continued their descent to the first floor, creeping along corridors, Duncan quite pale and scared-looking. At one point, they thought they saw Filch at the end of a corridor, but he vanished by the time they reached the end. However, when they got to the third floor, they found themselves in an unforeseen situation.

'Well, well, looks like some ickle students are out of bed,' said a cackling voice. It was Peeves, hovering a few feet above them, and looking delighted at what he had found.

Leanne, Frieda and Duncan froze. Peeves and Filch waged an ongoing war, Leanne had been told, so it was unlikely that he would go and tell the caretaker that three students were out of bed. But, then again, Peeves took delight in causing as much chaos and pain as possible.

'Oh dear, ickle firsties out of bed – that's not allowed,' Peeves went on, looking about as happy as Leanne had ever seen him.

'Peeves, please, we're just going to McGonagall to find out how to get in our common rooms, that's all, so don't tell anyone that we're here – especially not Filch,' Leanne pleaded as the poltergeist hovered above them, cackling every now and then.

'Okay, I won't tell anyone,' Peeves said, before zooming towards a suit of armour and knocking it to the ground with a thunderous crash that probably awoke every person in the castle. Peeves cackled once more and disappeared through a door, leaving Leanne, Frieda and Duncan standing rather suspiciously in front of a broken suit of armour.

'Run!' Leanne whispered frantically and bolted down the nearest corridor, keeping to the shadows.

'Peeves!' came the unmistakable roar of Argus Filch. 'Peeves, what is all this racket?'

Filch sounded alarmingly close by, so they ducked into a room with a door that was slightly ajar. Almost instantly, they realised they were not alone in the room. To Leanne's horror, she saw Snape bending down near the fireplace, talking to a head in the fire. Leanne was even more shocked when she recognised who the person was in the fireplace – it was Derrick Travers. Leanne was so surprised that she stood there, gawping at the scene, until Frieda and Duncan grabbed her robes and pulled her behind the teacher's desk at the front of the class, peeking around it to see what was going on at the other side of the room.

'What was that?' Travers asked suddenly, the flames licking his facial features. 'I heard a noise.'

'It'll be that wretched poltergeist breaking something again,' Snape replied, speaking in a tone that wasn't exactly friendly. 'But don't try to change the subject. You know very well that I am no longer what I once was. Dumbledore trusts me fully, in case you didn't know.'

'Dumbledore is a very trusting man – too trusting if you ask me, Severus,' Travers said slowly. 'If I had been Headmaster of this school, I certainly wouldn't have allowed you to teach Potions – especially with the history that you have got…'

'It is lucky, then, that Dumbledore is the Headmaster of this school, and not you,' Snape said coldly.

'And is it true that you have applied for the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher ever since you arrived here?' Travers shot back, his voice just as cold.

'That is neither here nor there,' Snape snapped. 'Now are you going to tell me why you wanted to speak to me tonight?'

'I just wanted to catch up on some old school friends, Severus,' Travers replied humorously.

'You and I both know that that is not the reason why you came here tonight,' Snape snapped impatiently. 'Now I suggest you get to the point or I shall alert Dumbledore and tell him that you are here.'

'It was clearer than it has been for ten years, Severus, as I am sure you have also noticed,' Travers explained quietly, and Leanne, Frieda and Duncan leaned in to catch his words. 'It means he didn't die when many had thought he had done; he's regaining power. You know what he wants, Severus, don't you? I am highly concerned about the Stone. Are you sure that it is safe here?'

'Safer than it was at Gringotts,' Snape replied. 'As you have probably heard, a robbery took place soon after the Stone was taken from its vault. Had the Stone not been removed and brought here, it would surely be in his hands by now. There are fewer places safer than Hogwarts, Travers, and I hope you realise that. Extra security and protection is currently being made to ensure that the Stone is unobtainable.'

'Ah, but of course,' Travers replied with a slight sneer. 'And am I right in guessing that you are helping in the protection of the Stone?'

'Yes,' Snape said curtly.

'How convenient,' Travers said. 'It must be easy for you, knowing how the Stone is protected, to steal it for him. Is that why you wanted to work here, Severus? To be closest to your enemies. You know what they say – keep your friends close and your enemies closer…'

'I have not been in his command for many years, as you very well know, Travers,' Snape said coldly. 'I was punished for what I did, as were you. I am just as suspicious of you as you are of me.'

'Punished? You can hardly call what you received as punishment,' Travers scoffed. 'I would gladly trade your punishment for mine, Severus.'

Their voices had become so low now that they were barely audible, and Leanne virtually stopped breathing as she listened intently to what was going on. What they were saying was confusing? They had been punished? How, and what for?

'Yes, but the difference is you work in a school and I do not,' Travers retorted. 'Dumbledore knows of your secret, Severus, and perhaps some of the teachers as well. But the students do not know, and neither do most of their parents. And what would they say if they found out that their children were being taught by a – '

'Ssh, I can hear someone!' Snape snapped, and sure enough, there was the sound of footsteps in the corridor outside; in an instant, Travers' head had vanished from the fire. The door to the classroom burst open and Filch peered in, muttering to himself.

'Stupid poltergeist, I don't know why Dumbledore – ' Filch stopped suddenly as he noticed Snape, who had stood up quickly. 'Oh…hello, professor, what are you doing – ?'

'I heard noises and I came to investigate,' Snape lied quickly, his expression indifferent. 'Most likely there are students out of bed. And what are you doing here, Filch? Shouldn't you be prowling the corridors.'

'Peeves is out causing trouble again, professor,' Filch replied. 'He knocked over and broke a suit of armour – woke Professor Flitwick up. This door was open, so I came in to investigate, professor. Obviously, it was just you. But I thought I heard another voice as well…'

'Clearly, you are wrong,' Snape snarled. 'But I have finished my business here. It must have been Peeves that I heard, not students out of bed. I shall return to the dungeons.'

'Yes, of course, goodnight professor,' Filch said, as Snape strode across the room and left; for a split second, Leanne thought she saw Snape glance towards where the three of them were hiding, but with a swish of his cloak, he vanished into the corridor.

Filch looked around the room once more, and Leanne saw his scrawny cat, Mrs Norris, snaking around his legs, but they both left a few seconds later, with Mrs Norris glaring in their direction with bulging, lamp-like eyes as she padded after her master.

'What on earth was all that about?' Duncan asked in a whisper a minute later, when they were sure that both Snape and Filch had both gone completely.

Leanne hesitated, but then proceeded to tell Duncan all about her previous encounter with Derrick Travers.

'Well, obviously Travers and Snape know each other,' Duncan said once Leanne had finished, 'but from the looks of things, they don't seem to like each other very much. And what was Travers talking about when he said that he was surprised that Dumbledore had allowed Snape to teach at Hogwarts, especially with the background he had?'

'Maybe Snape has a history of using Dark Magic,' Leanne suggested.

'Well, I wouldn't put it past him,' Frieda said darkly.

'Yeah, Travers certainly sounded as if he didn't trust Snape one bit,' Duncan pointed out. 'He seemed to think that Snape was after the Stone – whatever that is. But then again, Snape didn't seem to trust Travers that much either. And he said that they had both been punished for something.'

'And Travers said something was clearer than it had been for many years and that he hadn't died,' Leanne remembered. 'What was clearer? And who hadn't died? You-Know-Who? Is You-Know-Who after this Stone thing? It sounds to me that Travers seems to think that Snape might be a follower of You-Know-Who.'

Duncan scoffed. 'I doubt it, Leanne,' he said. 'He would have surely been found out by now if he was.'

'Yeah, but you heard Travers. He said that Dumbledore knew of Snape's history,' Leanne said excitedly. 'What if his history was that he was once a dark wizard? It makes sense, especially since Travers said that Snape's been after the Defence Against the Dark Arts post ever since he got here…'

'Even if he was once a dark wizard, he's obviously not anymore, is he?' Duncan pointed out. 'After all, they said that Dumbledore trusts Snape, and I've never known or heard Dumbledore to be wrong.'

Leanne's head was hurting now as she tried to make sense of the situation, and she was also a bit hurt. Travers had said that he would contact Leanne again soon, and yet, here he was, talking to Snape about a Stone and a robbery at Gringotts…

'Hey, I remember something!' Leanne cried suddenly. 'I saw the _Daily Prophet_ quite a while back. It said something about investigations continuing on a break-in at Gringotts. Perhaps this Stone thing was what they wanted to steal. But obviously they didn't succeed, for Snape said it had been removed from Gringotts and brought here…'

But they stopped talking quickly. Mrs Norris had slid back into the room and was staring at them. It looked as though she was happy as she vanished into the corridor again, probably to tell her master that three students were out of bed. Leanne, Frieda and Duncan didn't wait for Filch to return; they bolted from the room and headed back up to the seventh floor. Luckily, Duncan passed the Grey Lady, the Ravenclaw ghost, on the way, who informed Duncan of the new password, and after saying goodbye, he hurried off for the Ravenclaw tower.

Leanne and Frieda, meanwhile, were relieved to see that the Fat Lady had returned and was dozing in her portrait.

'Hobgoblin,' Leanne and Frieda said together, and the portrait swung open, allowing them access into the Gryffindor common room ('Where _have _you been?' a sleepy Fat Lady demanded, annoyed that she had been awoken).

The common room was empty apart from a couple of sixth years and an irritable-looking Percy Weasley, who was most unhappy to discover that Leanne and Frieda had been wandering the corridors after dark, and warned them that house points would be deducted from them should it ever happen again. Leanne hastily told the prefect what had happened, and he stopped shouting for just enough time for Leanne and Frieda to hurry off to bed.

Removing a relaxing Rabnott from her bed, Leanne remembered back to the detention she and Frieda had had with Snape, and thought that it wasn't entirely unreasonable that Snape had been – or still was – a Dark wizard.


	9. Chapter 8: The Midnight Visitor

– **Chapter Eight –**

The Midnight Visitor 

**The days slipped by and still there was no word from Travers. **Leanne had stopped staying awake at night, for her lack of sleep was seriously affecting her schoolwork, and she didn't think she would be able to cope with another detention with Snape. She had also been thinking about the conversation between Snape and Travers, but had gotten nowhere, and she daren't ask Snape what they had been talking about. Indeed, even if she wanted to, she would have little chance to do so; she only saw Snape during meals and Friday's double Potions lesson, and both times, there were too many people around for Leanne to safely ask questions.

There had also been frequent conversations between Leanne, Frieda and Duncan about the mysterious Stone that Travers and Snape had been talking about, but they usually ended with all three of them confused and wondering why a stone would be so important that someone would want to steal it.

'It must have magical properties,' Duncan had said multiple times, and although they had looked through a few library books (under the watchful eye of Madam Pince, the vulture-like librarian), they had been unable to find anything, and were unlikely to do so until they found out what the Stone was called or what it did.

Meanwhile, lessons continued. Potions was still the worse by far, and although Snape's least favourite student was Harry Potter, Leanne thought that she couldn't have been far behind him. He was constantly giving Leanne abysmal scores for her potions, even when they were better than ones that Crabbe and Goyle, who were unimaginably dumb, managed to concoct. Snape even blamed Leanne for upturning the contents of Malfoy's potion over his face, when Malfoy himself had done it accidentally, and predictably, several house points were deducted from Gryffindor because of it.

Quidditch practice had also begun, and Leanne saw the Gryffindor team heading down to the pitch early in the mornings on weekends, and after school on weekdays, to try out their new team. A burly fifth-year called Oliver Wood was the captain of the team, and also the Keeper; the Weasley twins were both Beaters, and Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell were all Chasers. The Seeker, the player responsible for capturing the Golden Snitch, was noticeably absent, though there had been rumours going around that Harry Potter was the new Seeker and that he had been secretly practicing with Wood for a number of days now. The fact that Harry had been delivered a broomstick-shaped present over breakfast one day seemed to imply that the rumours were true.

Roger was also extremely excited about the prospect of being on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, and had received a new broomstick from their mum (a Cleansweep Five), much to the annoyance and jealousy of Leanne, even though she couldn't fly a broom to save her life. Even from the Gryffindor table, Leanne could hear Roger bragging and telling anyone who would listen about his skill on a broom.

It came as a surprise one day when Leanne awoke a realised it was Halloween – she had been at Hogwarts for almost two months, but it didn't seem that long with all the homework they had been getting and all the thinking they had been doing about Snape, Travers and the mysterious Stone. As usual, Leanne quickly got dressed and headed down to the Great Hall with Frieda, where they were happy to discover that baked pumpkins were available to eat.

'Charms next,' Frieda said after they had scoffed themselves during breakfast. 'I hope we get to start making stuff fly today – Professor Flitwick said that we were ready…'

They were indeed making objects fly in Charms, much to the delight of all the students. The Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs were paired up by Professor Flitwick. By chance, Frieda and Leanne ended up in a pair and were given a feather that they were supposed to levitate. Harry Potter had been paired with Seamus Finnigan, and Ron Weasley with an irate-looking Hermione Granger, who didn't seem to want to speak to Ron at all.

'Now, don't forget the nice wrist movement we've been practising,' Professor Flitwick squeaked. 'Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. And saying the magic words properly is important too…'

As Professor Flitwick went on about some wizard that had said the wrong incantation, Leanne practised her swishing and her flicking, which didn't seem to go down well with Hannah Abbott of Hufflepuff, who was sitting on Leanne's left, for she got poked in the face several times as Leanne tried to get the movement right.

'And don't forget the words: _Wingardium Leviosa_,' Professor Flitwick reminded them. 'You may now start.'

Though Professor Flitwick had made the spell seem extremely easy by levitating Neville's toad, it turned out to be quite difficult. Leanne and Frieda took turns to try and make the feather rise into the air, with little success as it just sat on the table. Luckily, the rest of the class wasn't doing much better; Seamus had set fire to his feather by prodding it impatiently; Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown seemed to have given up on the spell and were tickling each other with their feather, and Susan Bones of Hufflepuff seemed to have somehow transfigured her own feather into a chicken and was now trying to contain it.

There was a sudden clapping sound. 'Oh, well done!' Professor Flitwick cried. 'Everyone see here. Miss Granger's done it!'

It came as no surprise that when Leanne looked over at Hermione, she saw her waving her wand majestically and levitating her feather four feet above their heads. Ron Weasley didn't seem too happy and scowled at Hermione as the entire class looked at her.

The next lesson was History of Magic, and for the first time in two months, Hermione Granger was not present for the lesson. Luckily, Professor Binns was so absorbed in talking about goblin rebellions (even though they had already been over the subject) that he didn't notice, but Leanne wondered where Hermione could be. When lessons had finished, though, and they went to the Great Hall, Leanne and Frieda became too excited and awestruck to worry about Hermione.

'Wow!' Leanne whispered to herself as she looked around the majestically decorated hall; there were literally hundreds of bats swooping over the tables and dozens of floating pumpkins. Orange streamers swam across the ceiling (which was stormy tonight) like brilliant coloured water snakes. The teachers were already seated and welcomed the students as they entered the Great Hall. Dumbledore was also there, sitting in his large chair in the centre of the staff table.

Once everyone was seated (some rather nervously for they weren't too keen on bats), the food appeared on the golden plates, just like it had done at the start-of-term feast. There was much to chose from and Leanne was already helping herself to seconds when somebody came rushing into the great. It was Professor Quirrell, Leanne noticed, and he seemed fearful and out of breath. He ran up to the staff table, slumped against it and in a breathless voice, gasped, 'Troll – in the dungeons – thought you ought to know', before collapsing onto the floor.

People started screaming and panicking, and Lavender Brown, in her flailing, managed to get a bat entangled in her hair, which didn't do much to calm her down. Neville had just tripped over his own feet in his eagerness to get away when there was a crackling sound, and everyone turned to see purple firecrackers exploding from the end of Professor Dumbledore's wand. Silence quickly fell.

'Prefects, lead your houses back to the dormitories immediately,' Dumbledore said calmly, 'and would all the teachers come with me to the dungeons.'

Percy Weasley couldn't have been happier. 'Follow me!' he said proudly, seemingly unaffected that there was a troll in the school. 'Stick together, first-years! No need to fear the troll if you follow my orders.'

'A troll?' Frieda asked sceptically. 'How on earth did a troll manage to get in the school. They're not the smartest of creatures…'

'I dunno,' Leanne replied, as they filed out into the entrance hall, calmer than they had been before, but still nervous. 'There are the Gryffindors. We'd better follow them.'

However, as they followed Percy up the sweeping staircase and onto the first floor, someone brushed past them rudely; it was Snape, Leanne realised quickly, and she saw him striding briskly along a corridor.

Leanne frowned. 'What's he doing?' she asked suspiciously, nudging Frieda and pointing towards Snape. 'The troll's supposed to be in the dungeons – what's he doing here?'

'Perhaps it's something to do with the Stone!' Frieda suggested excitedly. 'Let's follow him!'

'Oh, I don't know…' Leanne bit her lip uncertainly, glancing towards Percy, who was marshalling the first years up another flight of stairs, and then towards Snape, who was nearly out of sight. 'Oh, go on then, but we'd better not get caught…'

They ducked out of the line when Percy wasn't looking and crept down the shadowed corridor after Snape, who had made a turn at the end. Leanne peered around the side of the corridor and saw Snape's robe whip around another corner into a side passage. However, by the time they had reached it and looked around the corner, Snape was nowhere to be seen. Sighing, they were just about to go back when a disgusting smell reached their nostrils; Leanne wrinkled her nose, searching for the source of the sudden unpleasant smell and soon located it.

A huge creature was ambling along the corridor in their direction. Her heart pounding fiercely, Leanne dodged behind a nearby statue, Frieda right beside her, both of them visibly shaking as the troll trudged towards them, but luckily, it didn't seem to have spotted them. It stood about twelve feet high, had a large, lumpy body, horned, flat feet and a tiny head perched atop its wide shoulders. Its skin was granite grey and it carried with it a large wooden club that dragged along the floor because its arms were too long and its legs too small and stumpy.

'I guess it's out of the dungeons,' Leanne muttered.

As it neared the statue they were hiding behind, Leanne drew back instinctively, more because of its odour than the fact it looked brutish and was carrying a huge club.

'Know any good curses?' Frieda whispered as the troll passed them by. 'Imagine how many house points we'd get if we managed to defeat a mountain troll…'

But Frieda shouldn't have spoken; the troll had obviously heard her speak, and turned around, blinking dumbly in the darkness. It grunted at it saw Leanne and Frieda cowering in fear behind a statue and raised its club above its head.

'Move!' Leanne cried, and both of them managed to dived out of the way as the club came zooming down towards them; the statue that they had been hiding behind seconds before was smashed to pieces and its shards sent flying across the corridor.

'_Wingardium Leviosa_!' Leanne yelled, pointing her wand at the head of the statue; it rose into the air and fell back down, landing on the troll's toe. It bellowed in pain and swung its club, bring parts of the wall down; there was a sickening thud on Leanne's head, and she realised dizzily that something heavy had fallen on her.

Dazed, she collapsed to the floor, her vision swimming and her head pounding. The troll was advancing upon her. The last thing she saw was Leanne grabbing her and shouting, '_Alohomora_!' before darkness overcame her and she blacked out.

Leanne awoke a few hours later in a comfortable bed. She opened her eyes tentatively; her head still hurt immensely and she had bandages wrapped around it. Looking around, she realised she was sitting in the hospital wing and a clock over one of the bed revealed that it was eleven o clock, a few hours after Leanne and Frieda had (rather foolishly, Leanne now thought in hindsight) tried to tackle the troll by themselves.

Frieda and Duncan were sitting beside Leanne's bed, looking at her in worry. Behind them, bustling about, was Madam Pomfrey, the matron.

'Are you alright?' Frieda asked anxiously.

'Er…yeah,' Leanne replied, half-truthfully. 'My head is hurting though…'

'I'm not surprised,' Frieda said with a weak smile. 'That troll whacked you over the head with its club. Cracked your skull open. Luckily, Madam Pomfrey fixed it in about two minutes, but you need to keep those bandages on, and you need to stay here overnight, just in case.'

'How did we get away?' Leanne asked quietly; the louder she spoke, the more her head hurt.

'I grabbed you and opened a locked door using the _Alohomora _charm,' Frieda replied, looking slightly proud. 'I dragged you in and closed the door behind us. We stayed there until it was safe to go out again. McGonagall soon found us and brought you up here.'

'Why did you go after the troll anyway?' Duncan asked, shaking his head in disapproval. 'Didn't you know that you could have seriously been injured – which you were, Leanne.'

'We didn't go after the troll,' Leanne replied indignantly. 'We saw Snape heading along a first floor corridor so we followed him – wondered what he was up to when he should have been in the dungeons with the other teachers like Dumbledore said.'

'Well, the troll was on the first floor, not in the dungeons, wasn't it?' Duncan pointed out. 'Maybe Snape knew where it was and decided to head it off…'

'How would he know where it was…unless he let it loose in the castle…' Frieda said with sudden excitement.

But Leanne shook her head. 'If he really was going to head off the troll, he certainly failed,' she said. 'When we reached that corridor, Snape had vanished, hadn't he? He must have gone up to the second floor or something. The troll came from the other direction. He completely missed the troll. No, my guess is that whatever he was up to had something to do with this Stone…'

'I severely doubt that Snape would be after this Stone if Dumbledore had entrusted him to help protect it,' Duncan said slowly.

'But you heard what Travers said,' Leanne reminded them. 'He thinks that Dumbledore is too trusting…Anyway,' she added, as Frieda and Duncan glanced at each other, 'what happened to the troll? Did the teachers manage to get rid of it?'

'No, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger knocked it out,' Frieda replied. 'McGonagall told me as she was helping bring you up to the hospital wing. She'd given them a few house points, which is alright, I suppose…'

Leanne was surprised. 'How – how did they manage to do that?' she wondered aloud.

'Well, I don't know – heard something about Ron using _Wingardium Leviosa _ and hitting it on the head with its own club,' Frieda explained. 'Remember that Hermione wasn't in History of Magic? Well, it was because she was upset because Ron and Harry had been making fun of her after the Charms lesson, so she went to cry in the girls' bathroom. When Quirrell told everyone about the troll, Harry and Ron went to the bathroom to warn her because she didn't know about the troll, but they ended up defeating it…That's what Parvati Patil told me anyway. McGonagall said that Hermione had tried to defeat the troll on her own and Harry and Ron had come to her rescue. That was probably just a story they invented, though…'

'So McGonagall gave them a few house points to them then? She didn't take any away from us, did she?' Leanne asked apprehensively.

'I asked her that on the way up here, and she said she would have to consider it,' Frieda replied, 'but I don't think she will. She's probably too concerned about you to want to punish you…'

Just then, Madam Pomfrey bustled over and told Frieda and Duncan that it was now twenty past eleven and that they should go back to their common room. They reluctantly bade Leanne goodnight and left the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey checked Leanne over once more and, satisfied that she was well, went to her office. About fifteen minutes later, the lights on her office went out and Leanne assumed that she was off to sleep.

Leanne lay awake in the darkness, her head hurting so much that she wished she hadn't tried to follow Snape, and yet she was still left wondering where on earth he had been going and what he had been up to. Had he really been going after the Stone, whatever it was? Was he really a Dark wizard and had Dumbledore been slightly foolish in trusting Snape so much? She watched the clock on the wall tick away…quarter to twelve…ten to twelve…five to twelve…

She supposed it wasn't all bad; the beds were extremely comfortable, there was no one in the next bed snoring and there wasn't Rabnott jumping on you every half an hour to wake you up –

'Ah!' Leanne had to put a hand over her mouth to stop herself from screaming as something else had jumped on her; she hastily turned the lamp on and was just about to leap from the bed when she realised what it was.

It was a small creatures; small and grey-coloured with large, long fingers and nose, it peered at her with bat-like and enormous eyes that resembled tennis balls. It was wearing a tea cosy for a hat, a pair of oddly coloured children's shorts and socks that didn't match.

'What the – ? Who are you?' Leanne demanded, pulling herself away slightly from the smiling face of the house elf in the darkness.

'Wheezy, the house elf, miss,' the house elf replied, bowing so low that his long nose touched the bed covers.

'Wheezy?' Leanne repeated, surprised. 'You – you're Derrick Travers' house elf, aren't you?'

'Yes, Leanne Davies, miss, Wheezy at your service,' the house elf said proudly. 'Master got me a job here in the kitchens, and I was told to follow you and gain details about you. I followed you as best I could, miss, and my master was very pleased with me.'

'Then…ah…why aren't you down in the kitchens now then?' Leanne wondered, trying not to sound as though she wanted Wheezy to go; she was just worried that Madam Pomfrey might hear what was going on. 'Why are you up here?'

'Master is unable to visit you, miss, and he says that he is extremely sorry,' Wheezy said quickly, 'and so he asked Wheezy to visit you and make sure you are alright, especially after what happened with that nasty troll…'

'Er…well, I'm okay now,' Leanne said dismissively. 'But anyway, why can't Travers come and visit me again? He only has to use the Floo network. We can arrange for a time…'

'Master is sorry, but he is very busy at the moment, miss,' Wheezy explained and he suddenly began to cough so violently that Leanne was afraid that Madam Pomfrey would hear the commotion and investigate. At least now Leanne could see why the house elf was called Wheezy. She patted him on the back, and the coughing slowly died down. 'Master is doing important jobs,' Wheezy continued once he had recovered from his sudden coughing fit.

'What important jobs?' Leanne asked.

Wheezy's eyes bulged even more so than usual, and Leanne looked at him, alarmed; it looked like they might pop out of his sockets. 'Wheezy cannot tell you, miss,' the house elf said with gritted teeth, as though having a private fight with himself.

'He wasn't too busy that he couldn't have a chat with Professor Snape not too long ago,' Leanne muttered, mainly to herself, but Wheezy overheard and made a choking sound. Leanne turned towards the house elf and added, 'Do you know what they were talking about?'

'Wheezy…cannot…say…' Wheezy choked out, once again looking as if he was fighting himself; indeed, this time, he actually tried to strangle himself to stop him from saying anymore, and Leanne hastily reached over and prised his hands from around his neck.

'Okay, I understand,' she said quickly, afraid that Wheezy's continued yelps were going to bring Madam Pomfrey running. 'When do you think Travers will be able to contact me again?' she went on once she was certain that Wheezy wasn't going to continue hurting himself.

'Wheezy is unsure, miss,' Wheezy replied. 'Master is very busy with business concerning the Philosopher's Stone, miss.'

Leanne sat up straight and Wheezy's eyes bulged more than ever before. He bounced off the bed onto the bedside table, grabbed the lamp and started whacking himself around the head with it. Leanne made to grab the lamp, but was hit in the face with it accidentally as she tried to wrest control of the lamp from the house elf. A second attempt proved more successful and she managed to wrench the lamp from Wheezy's grasp, who was now muttering, 'Bad Wheezy…bad Wheezy…bad Wheezy…' over and over again.

'The Philosopher's Stone?' Leanne repeated excitedly. 'I take it that's the Stone that Snape and Travers was talking about. Is that the thing that the school is trying to protect? What does it do?'

Wheezy made a violent choking sound that made him go red. 'Bad Wheezy,' he repeated, his voice growing, much to the concern of Leanne, who was amazed that Madam Pomfrey had already managed to sleep through the ruckus. 'I have said too much, Leanne Davies, miss, I must punish myself.'

Leanne quickly grabbed him by his shorts before he could do such a thing and suspended him in mid-air, holding his hands with his free arm to stop him from hitting himself or strangling himself.

'What's the Philosopher's Stone?' Leanne asked again. 'Is Snape trying to steal it? What does it do?'

'Wheezy cannot say, miss,' the house elf squeaked, 'but I know that it is in danger. The Philosopher's Stone is being kept here at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but it is still in terrible danger…'

'Danger from whom?' Leanne pressed. 'Snape? Someone else?'

'Wheezy has said too much,' the house elf exclaimed in a choked, squeaky voice. 'Wheezy must punish himself…'

And before Leanne could stop him this time, Wheezy had left from the bed once more, landed on the floor and took a running jump at a wall, head-first so that he collided with it with an awful thud. Wheezy had taken a second running jump before Leanne was even half out of bed, and by the time Leanne had grabbed him round the middle to restrain him, Wheezy had jumped into the wall four times and now sported a nasty-looking lump on his forehead.

'Wheezy, you need to stop – ' Leanne began, but she stopped suddenly; the lights in Madam Pomfrey's office had flickered on, no doubt wondering what on earth all the noise was about.

Wheezy clicked his fingers and he vanished with a loud crack that would undoubtedly have piqued Madam Pomfrey's interest even more, and Leanne turned the lamp off and was forced to leap back into bed and pretend to be asleep when the matron appeared to see what was going on a few seconds later. After looking around for a short while, Madam Pomfrey was obviously satisfied, and she returned to her office, turning her lights off and leaving the hospital wing in darkness.


	10. Chapter 9: The Philosopher's Stone

– **Chapter Nine – **

The Philosopher's Stone 

**Leanne awoke in the hospital wing the next morning, feeling extremely warm due to the sunlight blazing through the window, despite the fact it was now November. **Noticing that he was awake, Madam Pomfrey bustled over, carrying a breakfast tray which she promptly gave to Leanne. She then began inspecting Leanne's head.

'Everything looks in order now,' Madam Pomfrey stated, as Leanne helped herself to some toast, which wasn't easy when Madam Pomfrey kept shaking her head to check for injuries. 'When you've finished eating, you may leave the hospital wing.'

Leanne hurriedly stuffed the rest of his toast into her mouth and raced off to the Gryffindor tower, eager to tell Frieda about her midnight visitor. However, upon reaching the common room, she saw that neither Frieda, nor anyone else, was there. Glancing at the clock, she realised that lessons had just begun, and with a stab of terror, realised what lesson she was supposed to be in now: Potions.

Even at full speed, it still took Leanne nearly ten minutes to hurtle down the castle to the dungeons, though she had been slowed down significantly by Peeves, who had tried to upend a large bust onto his head. Finally, she burst into the Potions dungeon, panting and clutching her side, hoping against hope that Snape wouldn't punish her.

However, Leanne could instantly tell from the cold smirk of Snape's face that no such thing was going to happen. 'Welcome, Miss Davies,' he said smoothly, sounding malicious. 'It's so nice of you to join us. I think a deduction of ten points from Gryffindor is in order.'

'It's not my fault, I was hurt and I was in the hospital wing…' Leanne tried to explain, but faltered when she saw the smile that Snape had now adopted; she could see his disgusting yellow teeth behind his curling lips.

'Yes, I heard of your little excursion,' Snape said. 'Tried to defeat a troll by yourself, did you? Tut tut, how foolish. Potter and his friends managed to defeat it through sheer luck and their tenaciousness to break school rules,' he looked unpleasantly over at Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, who were sitting together for once, 'but I wouldn't advise you to try and be a hero as well, Davies…'

'I wasn't trying to be a hero!' Leanne snapped, wanting very much to tell Snape that they had been following him.

'Another five points from Gryffindor,' Snape said curtly. 'I shall not accept rude behaviour in my classroom. Now get to your cauldron.'

Leanne, brimming over with hatred for the Potions master, slowly took her seat and resisting the urge to shout at Snape. But he turned back to the board and was writing something complicated.

'Are you alright now?' Frieda asked, chopping up some dried nettles, as Leanne stood at the same table as her.

'Yeah, listen I've got to tell you something about what happened last night,' Leanne said excitedly, but noticing that Snape was looking their way, his eyes narrowed, she added in a whisper, 'I'll tell you after the lesson.'

The end of the lesson couldn't have come quickly enough. Potions was her least-favourite subject (though she suspected that she might enjoy it more if it were taught by a different teacher), and coupled with the fact that she couldn't tell Frieda what had happened until after the lesson was over made it even more unbearable. She was so eager to get out of the lesson that she didn't even bother when her Hair-Raising Potion went terribly awry and Snape took another house point from Gryffindor.

Finally, when the bell rang for lunch, Leanne and Frieda hurried off to the entrance hall, where they were lucky to bump into Duncan as he came down the sweeping staircases. This meant that Leanne wouldn't need to tell the same story twice, and they went out of the castle and Leanne found a quiet spot near the greenhouses to tell her story. She told them about Wheezy and what he had said, including the Philosopher's Stone.

'It sounds as if Travers is worried about it being stolen, and that he's trying to make sure it is safe,' Duncan mused once the story had been told. 'But stolen by who?'

'Snape,' Leanne replied instantly.

Duncan shook his head. 'No, I don't care how nasty he is to you or anyone else, he can't be the one after this Philosopher's Stone thing,' he said firmly. 'If Dumbledore trusts Snape enough to let him help protect it, then I believe that Snape is not the villain. I trust Dumbledore's believes.'

'Okay then, whether it's Snape or not,' Leanne went on, waving a hand dismissively, 'Wheezy said the Philosopher's Stone is in danger.' She paused and added, 'I don't suppose either of you know what the Philosopher's Stone actually is, do you?'

Frieda and Duncan both shook their heads.

'I've never heard of it before,' Frieda admitted, 'and I come from a large wizarding family…It must be something very rare or powerful or both for someone to want to steal it so badly, and for myself not to have heard of it before…I suppose we could grab something quick to eat and then head off to the library and try and find it in one of the books.'

They decided that that was the best solution, and after throwing some food into their mouths, they rushed off to the library on the fourth floor. It was a large room with tens of thousands of books crammed onto thousands of shelves, with hundreds of different sections. The most intriguing section was the Restricted Section at the back of the library, which contained mainly books about Dark Magic that were only often used by students studying advanced Defence Against the Dark Arts. A note from a teacher was also required to borrow a book from the Restricted Section, and Leanne couldn't see why any teacher would write them a note to search the Restricted Section for no reason.

Instead, they searched through the rest of the library. They were so many books that Leanne didn't know where to start, and in the background, Madam Pince, the librarian, a thin woman with a shrivelled face, prowled the shelves and watched them suspiciously.

'We could ask _her_,' Frieda muttered, indicating towards Madam Pince after they had spent forty-five minutes in the library with no success. 'She'll probably know where to find a book about the Philosopher's Stone.'

Leanne was sure that she would, but she didn't want to ask her; she might tell the other staff members and some would undoubtedly become suspicious and ask Leanne where she had found out the name, and then everyone would find out about Travers and Wheezy and everything else that had happened… No, Leanne thought after a while, there was no need to ask Madam Pince for help, they would find a book about the Philosopher's Stone eventually…

Their search lasted for several days, during which Madam Pince became increasingly suspicious of what they were up to as they grabbed a few minutes between lessons to look through a couple of books, though to no avail. They soon found out that the librarian was highly protective of her books and had placed several enchantments upon them; Frieda had been absent-mindedly doodling on _Important Modern Magical Discoveries _when it had suddenly rose into the air and started beating him about the head and only stopped doing so when Madam Pince chased them from the library, brandishing a feather duster, whilst another book, seemingly annoyed with the rough way Leanne was treating its pages, slammed shut on her hand and didn't remove itself for twenty-four hours; Leanne was forced to try and pot some Flitterbloom in Herbology with her left hand, which was extremely difficult, and the book kept disrupting the class with sporadic snarling noises.

However, their search was to be interrupted when they learned that the first Quidditch match of the season was scheduled on the ninth of November, just two days away – it was Gryffindor versus Slytherin, and of course, this meant that relationships between the two houses (which were already frayed) were stretched to breaking point. Slytherins and Gryffindors were constantly glaring at each other from across the hallway, and the occasional hex fired at each other in an attempt to injure each other's players was not uncommon. Leanne herself got caught in the middle of such a skirmish heading to Transfiguration when Marcus Flint, Captain of the Slytherin team, fired at Bat-Bogey Hex at Oliver Wood. Snape arrived on the scene, failed to punish Flint, and refused to help Wood as his bogies grew to the size of bat, sprouted wings and proceeded to attack him.

The last Potions lessen before the match was almost unbearable; Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson grinned unpleasantly across the dungeon at the Gryffindors, and Millicent Bulstrode purposely spilled her Scintillation Solution all over Neville, though Snape quickly labelled it as an accident and told Neville to clean the mess up. Leanne often caught Snape glaring at Harry Potter, who was the new Gryffindor seeker, as though he wished Harry to have a severe accident before the match.

Even the teachers were become distant towards one another, especially the Heads of Houses, who very much wanted their house to win the Quidditch cup that year. The worst culprits were McGonagall and Snape, who looked stonily at each other whenever they met, and they both looked as if they wanted the other to come last place in the cup this year.

When the day finally arrived, there was much excitement and anticipation in the air as the entire school made their way down to the Quidditch pitch. They saw Snape heading towards the teachers' stand, and Leanne noticed that he was limping.

'Wonder what's wrong with him,' she said, nudging the others and pointing towards Snape as he hobbled away.

Duncan shrugged. 'Must have hurt his leg somehow,' he said distractedly, looking around eagerly at the Quidditch pitch as they climbed up into the stands and found the best seat that they could locate.

Hundreds of seats were raised in stands around the pitch so that they were high enough to see what was going on in the air, but it was still difficult to see the action sometimes and many people had brought along binoculars to aid them, including Frieda. At either end of the pitch were three golden poles with hoops on the end, which were the three goalposts.

Duncan headed over to the Ravenclaw stand, whilst Leanne and Frieda joined the Gryffindors on the topmost row. Some of the Gryffindors had painted a large banner that said _Potter for President _on it, though judging from the small paw marks on it, it seemed like Ron Weasley's rat, Scabbers, had taken a nap on the drawing of the Gryffindor lion, which had been bewitched so that it flashed different colours.

After about ten minutes, the two teams strode out from the changing rooms, clutching their brooms. The Gryffindors, led by Oliver Wood, were dressed in scarlet robes, whilst the Slytherins, led by Marcus Flint, were dressed in green. There was much cheering and booing from the houses as the two teams emerged onto the pitch, though the cheers generally outnumbered the boos (both the Ravenclaws and the Hufflepuffs were eager to see Gryffindor beat the Slytherins as well).

'No way, is that a Nimbus 2000 that Harry's got?' Frieda asked in awe, looking down at the teams with her binoculars.

Leanne borrowed the binoculars and zoomed in on Harry's broom. Yeah, it was a Nimbus 2000, she realised quickly, noticing its sleek mahogany handle and its tail of neat, straight twigs. That must have been in the broomstick-shaped package that he had received over breakfast that one time.

Leanne handed the binoculars back to Frieda and watched the two teams assembling in the middle of the pitch with Madam Hooch, who would be refereeing. She spoke briefly to the two teams as Wood and Flint shook hands, each looking as though they would love nothing better than to break each others'. Madam Hooch released the Bludgers and the Golden Snitch, which zoomed off into the sky, blew her whistle and then threw the red Quaffle into the air.

Fifteen brooms rose quickly into the air, and the Quaffle was quickly obtained by Gryffindor Chase Angelina Johnson, who tore down the pitch, which was quickly noted by the match commentator, Lee Jordan, who said through a magical loudspeaker, 'What an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too – '

'JORDAN!' Professor McGonagall shouted, who was sitting next to Lee Jordan and watching him closely.

'Sorry, Professor,' Lee quickly apologised, before turning his attention back to the match. 'And she's really belting along there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood's, last year only a reserve – back to Johnson and – no, Slytherin have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin captain Marcus Flint takes the Quaffle and off he goes – Flint flying like an eagle up there – he's going to sc – no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and Gryffindor take the Quaffle…'

There were lots boos from the Slytherin crowd, who were annoyed by the fact that Wood had saved the goal, whilst plenty of cheers from the Gryffindors rang around the pitch. Frieda let Leanne borrow her binoculars for a few seconds, and she raised them to her eyes to see Adrian Pucey of Slytherin zooming down the pitch with the Quaffle, but he was soon stopped by a Bludger hit by one of the Weasley twins. As Gryffindor took possession again, Leanne raised the binoculars high above the action and saw Harry Potter flying around the pitch on his Nimbus 2000, scanning the skies for the Golden Snitch. The Slytherin Seeker, Terence Higgs was also up there, keeping uncomfortable close to Harry.

'…dodges a speeding Bludger – the goalposts are ahead – come on now, Angelina – Keeper Bletchley dives – misses – GRYFFINDOR SCORE!' Lee Jordan shouted.

Cheers erupted throughout the Gryffindor stand, as the Slytherins bemoaned and shouted abuse at the Gryffindor players. Leanne lowered the binoculars and glanced over at Snape on the teachers' stand, who was looking as though he wouldn't mind if a thunderstorm appeared and all of the Gryffindor players were struck by lightening.

There was a small commotion along the row and the large shape of Hagrid the giant started squeezing his way through the seats, and Neville, Dean and Seamus had to scurry out of the way to let him pass. Patting a pair of binoculars (much larger than a normal pair because of his larger than normal size), he sat down, with some trouble, next to Ron and Hermione.

'Slytherin is possession,' Lee Jordan was saying as the match resumed. 'Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys and Chaser Bell and speeds towards the – wait a moment – was that the Snitch?'

Everyone craned their necks to try and see a flicker of the tiny golden ball. Adrian Pucey, too busy looking at the spot where the Snitch was hovering, dropped the Quaffle, but no seemed to catch it; it fell lazily down as the two Seekers, Harry and Terence Higgs raced towards the Golden Snitch at breakneck speed. Harry was pulling ahead – his Nimbus 2000 was slightly faster than the broom Higgs was on.

The murmuring and encouragements quickly turned into roars of annoyance as Marcus Flint rushed purposely in front of Harry when he had been inches away from the Snitch; the two collided and Harry span off course, nearly falling off his broom. Madam Hooch quickly arrived on the scene, shouted angrily at Flint, and then ordered a free shot at the Slytherin goalposts for Gryffindor.

'So – after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating – ' Lee Jordan was saying angrily into his loudspeaker, obviously finding it slightly difficult to remain unbiased when he, himself, was in Gryffindor.

'Jordan!' growled Professor McGonagall.

'I mean, after that open and revolting foul – ' Lee went on.

'Jordan, I'm warning you!'

'All right, all right,' Lee sighed. 'Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone, I'm sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinnet, who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue play, Gryffindor still in possession…'

'What's going on up there?' Frieda asked quietly, looking at something way above the match with her binoculars.

She passed the binoculars to Leanne, who looked through them and saw Harry, who's broomstick seemed to be jerking around erratically, as if the broom was trying to buck him off. It was zigzagging through the air, seemingly out of Harry's control, for every few seconds, he nearly fell off. Nobody else seemed to have noticed, however, for their eyes were still on the game as Flint grabbed hold of the Quaffle.

'What's happening to his broom?' Leanne asked, lowering the binoculars and staring worriedly up at the moving dot that was Harry high in the sky. 'Has someone put a jinx on it or something?'

'It's possible,' Frieda said slowly, who also had turned her attention to the sky, 'but unlikely. Only very Dark Magic can interfere with a broomstick, their charms and enchantments are that powerful…'

'Slytherin in possession – Flint with the Quaffle,' Lee Jordan was saying. 'Passes Spinnet – passes Bell – hit hard in the face with a Bludger, hope it broke his nose – only joking, Professor,' he added hastily as Professor McGonagall looked like she was about to reprimand him again. 'Slytherin score – oh no…'

By now, several people seem to have noticed what was happening with Harry and his broom and were muttering amongst themselves as they pointed upwards. There was a large collective gasp as Harry's broom gave one large jerk and Harry nearly fell off, holding on with one hand, dangling from it. Leanne and Frieda looked nervously at each other.

'That's got to be a jinx,' Frieda said, scanning the crowd with her binoculars, 'but who could have done it?'

By now, even the Quidditch players had realised what was going on. The Weasley twins tried to pull Harry from his Nimbus 2000 and on to one of their own brooms, but it jerked away wildly whenever they got anywhere near him. The only person who seemed to be still interested in the match was Marcus Flint, who, seemingly unconcerned about Harry's wellbeing, seized the Quaffle and scored three times.

'I knew it,' someone gasped. It was Hermione, and she, too, had a pair of binoculars and was looking at something in the stands. 'Snape – look.'

Frieda, who had also overheard, looked over at the teachers' stand. 'Over there, it's Snape,' she said loudly, but no one seemed to have overheard because of the noise that was steadily rising. 'He's jinxing the broom!'

Leanne took the binoculars, swept over the stands and saw Snape, muttering under his breath as he looked up at Harry. A few rows in front of him, Lee Jordan had stopped commentating and was now simply shouting abuse at Marcus Flint as he scored another two goals without anyone else noticing, and Professor McGonagall had rose to her feet, looking up in horror at what was going on with Harry's broom.

'What should we do?' Frieda cried, and the other Gryffindors looked like they were thinking the same, whilst the jeering Slytherins looked as though Harry falling off his broom would be a bonus.

'Look – over there!' Leanne exclaimed, pointing to the teachers' stand; Professor Quirrell had fallen headfirst into the row in front and smoke rising from Snape's robes seemed to imply that he was on fire. Leanne wondered who had done it, but a quick glimpse of someone with bushy brown hair retreating back into the stands gave him the answer.

Leanne looked back at the sky and saw that Harry's broom had stopped jerking around wildly. He clambered back on to his Nimbus 2000 and started speeding off towards the ground before Terence Higgs could even react. However, something happened; as Harry was swooping low after what must have been the Golden Snitch, he clapped his hand over his mouth, fell off his broom and onto the ground before spitting something out into his hand.

The game continued for nearly another minute before everyone realised that the thing that had fallen out of Harry's mouth had been the Golden Snitch, and cheers exploded around the pitch. The Gryffindor players eventually realised what had happened and zoomed down to the ground to pat Harry on the back, whilst the Slytherins howled and jeered, especially Flint, who looked as though he would like to impale Harry on his broomstick, and was probably only stopped by the fact that many other people, including Madam Hooch, had appeared on the scene.

'Gryffindor win by one hundred and seventy points to sixty!' Lee Jordan exclaimed happily, as Harry was led off the pitch by Ron, Hermione and Hagrid, and all four of them headed off towards Hagrid's hut, which was located near the Forbidden Forest.

As the Gryffindor happily exited the pitch, they found Duncan, who was equally pleased that Gryffindor had managed to defeat Slytherin. However, their euphoria quickly vanished when they saw Professor Snape disappear around a corner of the castle, looking behind him suspiciously as he went, limping as he was before.

'Let's follow him,' Leanne said, rather unnecessary, for Frieda and Duncan had already started after him.

They kept to the side of the castle and quickly but quietly headed off in the direction that Snape had gone. They peered around the side of the castle and saw the shadowed figure of Snape, standing rather menacingly next to someone. Leanne leaned forward even more and was shocked to see that the second figure was Professor Quirrell.

'I think you should be extremely careful what you are doing from now on, Quirinus,' Snape was saying coldly. 'I suggest you also think carefully before you decide to do anything as foolish as that again.'

'B-but, Severus, I-I don't know w-what you are talking about,' Professor Quirrell stammered, looking quite fearfully at Snape's hook-like nose, which was mere centimetres from Quirrell's face.

'I think you know very well that I am talking about,' Snape replied silkily. 'As all of the teachers know, the Philosopher's Stone is being kept at Hogwarts. We wouldn't want it to get stolen now, would we?'

'No, n-no, of course n-not,' Professor Quirrell stuttered, looking quite pale.

'You have also, like me, been enlisted by Dumbledore to help protect the Stone, if I have heard correct,' Snape went on. 'Ah yes, you have placed a – ' Snape's voice went so quiet here that Leanne couldn't tell what he was saying. ' – very convenient, I must say. Of course, I rushed off to the third floor, hoping to head you off. Luckily, I succeeded, but then you became suspicious of me, didn't you, Quirinus?'

'Is that w-why your leg is injured?' Quirrell asked nervously, as if he feared asking the question.

'You know very well why it is injured!' Snape snapped unkindly. 'I was bitten by that great three headed dog of Hagrid's. It's hard to keep an eye on all three heads at once, which I am sure you are aware of.'

'And what about D-Dumbledore, does – ?' Quirrell began.

'Dumbledore does not know,' Snape replied quickly. 'He is a very trusting man and cannot see things that are going on before his very eyes. But, I assure you, should anything like this happen again, I will be sure to – '

Once again, Snape lowered his voice and did not raise it again for several minutes, when he snapped, 'Goodnight' and strode off towards the castle. Leanne, Frieda and Duncan ducked out of sight as Snape passed, and then Quirrell a few minutes later, stammering and muttering inaudible to what appeared to be himself. Once they had both vanished, Leanne, Frieda and Duncan all looked at each other in shock.

'You can't say Snape isn't guilty now,' Frieda said to Duncan. 'Not after what you've just heard.'

'It does sound as if something is going on,' Duncan said slowly. 'Even Snape himself said that Dumbledore was very trusting…I wonder what Snape was on about when he told Quirrell that he should be very careful about what he does from now on?'

'It sounds to me that Quirrell managed to find out that Snape was trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone or something,' Leanne retorted, as they headed back to the castle for lunch. 'Perhaps he had been trying to stop Snape, and Snape was warning him to never do that again. I mean, Snape did say that Quirrell had grown suspicious of him.'

'We should tell another teacher about what Snape's up to,' Frieda said as they entered the entrance hall and through the doors into the Great Hall, which was already filled with happy Gryffindors and jeering Slytherins.

'And tell them what exactly?' Duncan interjected. 'We don't have any real proof, and most of the teachers trust Dumbledore's decisions. If Dumbledore says he trusts Snape, then so too with the rest of the teachers. No, the best thing we can do right now is find out more about this Philosopher's Stone and find out what it does.'

It was easier said than done. They were already spending more time than was humanly normal in the library, and as the November days became colder and harsher, they still hadn't found anything. Lessons were getting more advanced, and homework was being set more frequently (especially in the case of Snape, who seemed to be giving Gryffindor immensely difficult homework after their victory over Slytherin, and was giving them extremely low marks in their attempts; Hermione was nearly driven to tears when she received less than fifteen out of thirty marks on one piece of homework since she'd spent the entire weekend completing it).

However, as December neared and the first snow started to fall, it seemed that their luck had changed. Duncan strode excitedly into the Great Hall one day, holding a large, dusty volume, and walked over to where Leanne and Frieda were sitting on the Gryffindor table. He slammed the book down on the table, which was so large and heavy that copious amounts of dust went everywhere, the sugar bowl overturned all over Ron's essay, which he was hurriedly completing before History of Magic, and it scared Silverstone, who flapped his wings nervously in Parvati Patil's face.

After quickly apologising to Ron and Parvati, Duncan turned back to Leanne and Frieda and exclaimed eagerly, 'I've found it! I've found out what the – ' He lowered his vice significantly. ' – Philosopher's Stone is.'

Duncan opened the book, which was called _Wizarding Discoveries of the Fourteenth Century_, and turned to a page that he had folded down ('Madam Pince won't be happy,' Frieda said). He pointed at a certain passage and said triumphantly, 'There!'

Leanne and Frieda leant over the body and quickly read the passage:

The Philosopher's Stone has been the goal of alchemists and wizards for centuries, though only one such Stone has ever been known to have been created. The Philosopher's Stone had remarkable magical properties and is able to turn ant metal into pure gold and also produces the Elixir of Life, which will make the drinker immortal.

_Because of this, many wizards and witches have tried to create a Philosopher's Stone for themselves, though only one has succeeded – the famous alchemist Nicholas Flamel, who was born in the 1320s. The Stone has kept Mr Flamel and his wife, Perenelle, alive for over six hundred and fifty years each, making them the longest lived wizard and witch in the world. However, due to the need to repeatedly take the Elixir of Life, should the elixir run out or the Stone contaminated, the drinker will die shortly after. Despite these downsides, hundreds of wizards and alchemists have attempted to make the a Philosopher's Stone for themselves, though none have succeeded, and thus, because of how sought after it is, the only Philosopher's Stone in existence has been kept in a high security vault at Gringotts for many years now. _

Leanne and Frieda looked up excitedly. There was only one Philosopher's Stone in the world and it was in their very school, and the fact that it turned any metal into gold, and even better, granted immortality, made the Stone even more exciting, though of course, it made it more valuable…

'Well, at least we now know why Snape is after the Stone,' Frieda said as Duncan closed the book with a snap; more dust billowed everywhere, behind which a nearby Neville vanished. 'A stone that can make your immortal? I think everyone would want one.'

'Yeah, I'm surprised that more people aren't after it,' Leanne said softly. 'I mean, something as powerful as that – I'd have thought ever Dark witch or wizard in the country would be after it…'

'They would probably try if they had the chance,' Duncan said, 'but think about it. It was moved from Gringotts to Hogwarts, which is perhaps the one thing safer than Gringotts. No one in their right mind would try and steal the Philosopher's Stone from Hogwarts, least of all when Dumbledore is Headmaster. The only person who would consider stealing it would be someone who worked at the school, and had helped in defending it…someone like Snape.'

'Oh, so you're finally agreeing with us?' Frieda said fiery. 'You finally think that Snape's up to something?'

Duncan sighed. 'Yes, I believe that something is going on here, and Snape's recent behaviour seems to point towards him being at the heart of all this. Mind you, we could be all wrong…'

'I doubt it,' Leanne said firmly. 'You remember what he was saying to Quirrell, and Travers seems suspicious of him as well.'

'Snape,' Frieda hissed; everyone turned and saw Snape enter the Great Gall, heading down their aisle, not looking at anyone in particular, but looking venomous as he hobbled along towards the staff table.

'I'd better get this book back to the library, or else Madam Pince will kill me,' Duncan said, and hastily grabbed the book and rushed out of the Great Hall before Snape could reach them.

Leanne and Frieda talked about what they would do if they had a Philosopher's Stone. Frieda said she wanted to buy a dragon, whilst Leanne wanted to become Headmistress of Hogwarts for a day, sack Snape and then give Dumbledore his old position back. Leanne glanced at Snape, who was now seated at the staff table, and their eyes met for an instance. Snape's eyes burrowed into Leanne, his eyes widened for a second, and then he looked quickly away.


	11. Chapter 10: Christmas at Hogwarts

– **Chapter Ten – **

Christmas at Hogwarts 

**November swiftly turned into December, which brought about harsher weather, several inches of snow and a sudden increase in the number of colds within the castle. **These could hardly be used to get off lessons, however, for one visit to Madam Pomfrey, and a Pepperup Potion later and you were back to full health. The cold, snowy weather was keeping Madam Pomfrey busy, as well as Filch, since he needed to clean up the muddy footprints that the students trailed into the castle, though the latter seemed to hate doing this and said that anyone who he caught leaving such a mess in the castle would be strung up by their thumbs in the dungeons. Leanne highly doubted that Dumbledore would allow such punishment to go ahead, but she was still careful not to trail snow or mud in, and if she did so, she was quick to leave the scene before Filch or Mrs Norris arrived.

Everyone was excited about the holidays, and even the sudden cold weather could not dampen their spirits. The Gryffindor common room had a roaring fire, which prompted most Gryffindors to spend much of their time there, and less time in the rather cold corridors, which usually sported bitter winds. During early December, Professor McGonagall came round all of the students and asked them whether or not they would be staying at Hogwarts during the Christmas season.

Leanne had contacted her mother, who had said that it would be fine if she stayed at Hogwarts over Christmas (although Roger was going home), and so she quickly put her name down when Professor McGonagall came round with the list. Frieda, too, put her name down because the rest of her family was on the holiday, though Duncan had informed them that he would be spending time with his family over the holiday period. Luckily, many of the Slytherins were also going home over Christmas. Draco Malfoy was constantly bragging about how rich his family was and how many presents he would be getting for Christmas, though Leanne tried her hardest not to listen to him, and tried even harder not to throw her cauldron full of liquid over him as he smirked in the middle of the dungeons.

'I hope he gets a toad for Christmas,' Frieda muttered to Leanne as they exited Potions for what would be the last time until after Christmas. Malfoy had been particularly mean during the lesson, making snide comments about not having no parents, which were obviously directed towards Harry, who was also staying at Hogwarts due to the fact that he lived with his horrid Muggle aunt, uncle and cousin.

'Nah, I hope he gets dragon pox for Christmas,' Leanne said, only half-joking.

There was a small commotion up ahead; Ron Weasley had grabbed the front of Malfoy's robes, and Leanne and Frieda stopped suddenly, wondering if there was going to be a fight. Obviously not, they realised quickly, as Snape arrived on the scene, looking as though the festive season had not improved his cold mood nor his biased attitude towards the Slytherins. Ron quickly let go of Malfoy's robes.

'He was provoked, Professor Snape,' said a voice from behind what Leanne had previously thought to be a floating Christmas tree, but it turned out to be Hagrid as he poked his large and hairy face around it. 'Malfoy was insultin' his family.'

'Be that as it may be,' Snape said silkily, looking highly unconcerned, 'fighting is against Hogwarts rules, Hagrid. Five points from Gryffindor, Weasley, and be grateful that it isn't any more. Move along, all of you,' he snapped towards Leanne and Frieda.

Perhaps the festive spirit _had_ affected Snape's mood; he had only taken five points from Gryffindor (the usual was ten), and he hadn't awarded Slytherin any points for absolutely nothing (which Malfoy seemed to have been expecting, and he, Crabbe and Goyle marched away, looking annoyed). Or maybe, Leanne thought to herself as they squeezed past Hagrid and his Christmas tree, it was because Snape was more distracted about obtaining the Philosopher's Stone these days.

As they entered the Great Hall, Leanne looked around in awe. It looked spectacular; eleven Christmas trees stood around the room (soon to be twelve, as Hagrid and his tree entered the room), sparkling with tiny icicles and glittering with candles. Many of them were covered in frost, and thick streamers of holly and mistletoe criss-crossed the ceiling, which was also the origin of dry snow that was falling upon the feasting students, but it seemed to melt before it reached the floor.

Indeed, the rest of the castle was being decorated accordingly; more mistletoe had been put up in the hallway, which Leanne had been desperately trying to avoid in case she ended up beneath a piece with a particularly ugly boy, such as Crabbe. Glowing lights also shone mysteriously from inside every suit of armour and the delicious smell of cooking seemed to follow the students wherever they went. Fairy lights had been put up all around school, which turned out to be real fairies on closer inspection. Everyone was in exceedingly happy moods, especially when term had ended and the Christmas holidays had officially begun, for although they have received some homework (mainly from Snape), nobody, with the possible exception of Hermione Granger, was going to do it until after Christmas day.

'Have a good Christmas,' Duncan said, a few days before Christmas as he and the other students that were going home assembled in the entrance hall. Many other students had arrived to see them off, including Leanne and Frieda. 'Don't do anything stupid,' he added, as Filch arrived to take everyone down to the carriages that would head towards the train station, 'and don't do anything to annoy Snape, and definitely don't let on that you know what he's up to…'

A small list of do's and don'ts followed, which was fortunately cut short by Professor Dumbledore arriving to wish the students a merry Christmas. People hugged and waved goodbye and everyone started to file out of the front door after Filch. Duncan said goodbye again before joining the line, and once he was out of sight, Leanne and Frieda returned to the common room, which was much emptier.

The fact that nearly everyone had gone to spend time with their families over Christmas meant that they had almost the entire common room to themselves and often tried to get the good armchairs by the fire. The only other Gryffindor first years that were staying at Hogwarts were Harry and Ron, who spent much of their time playing wizards' chess, though Harry seemed quite abysmal at it. Leanne, meanwhile, had gotten slightly better at Exploding Snap, and although she still lost to Frieda (eight times), it was by a much smaller margin. Once they had grown bored of playing Exploding Snap and watching Ron's chessmen beat Harry's men around, Leanne decided to use the Exploding Snap cards to make a card pyramid, which eventually resulted in dozens of cards scattered around the common room, much to the displeasure of Percy Weasley, who quickly told Leanne and Frieda to clean it up, whilst Ron looked at them apologetically from behind his brother.

When Leanne awoke on Christmas day, she found a moderate-sized pile of presents lying at the foot of her bed. She quickly scrambled out of bed to inspect them, and Frieda, who had been awoken by Rabnott as he scurried over her slumbering body, sat up, yawned and said sleepily, 'Happy Christmas, Leanne!'

'You too!' Leanne exclaimed as she eagerly ripped open her first present and found a luxury eagle quill that Frieda had bought her. 'Thanks,' she added, smiling at her friend, as she opened the present that Leanne had got her – a book about her favourite Quidditch team, the Falmouth Falcons.

Leanne quickly opened her other presents; she had received a large variety of sweets from her brother, Roger (Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, Drooble's Best Blowing Gum and some Chocolate Frogs); Duncan had given her a moving model of the galaxy in a glass jar, having seemingly forgot that it was him who enjoyed Astronomy, not Leanne; her mother had given her a Remembrall ('So you'll never forget anything again,' the letter that accompanied the present said) and a homework planner ('In case the Remembrall breaks'). Leanne strongly suspected that the Remembrall and the homework planner, which gave off small reminders whenever it was opened, would be spending a great deal of time in the bottom of his trunk, and she moved on to her final present.

'What's that?' Frieda asked, pointing to Leanne's last present; she had already ripped open all her presents and was currently eating some Chocolate Frogs that her brother had given her and looking at the Famous Wizard card inside (_Ignatia Wildsmith, 1227 – 1320, the witch who invented Floo powder_).

'I don't know,' Leanne replied truthfully as she ripped open the wrapping paper and a stone bowl tumbled out onto the floor.

'It's a pensieve,' Frieda gasped, the Chocolate Frog now forgotten. 'Who on earth gave you that?'

Leanne checked the label, where there was a small message in scrawling handwriting, that said:

This is the pensieve that belonged to your father, and the one that I took from his study. I am still deeply sorry for that crime, and I can now only hope that giving you the pensieve, so you can see what your father was like before you were born, will somehow make up for that. However, there are no memories contained within the pensieve yet – I will send them at a later date when I can find an owl. 

_Merry Christmas to you,_

_From Derrick Travers_

'Wow,' Leanne said softly, 'it's from Travers. It's the pensieve that he stole from my dad's study.'

'I see no memories inside,' Frieda said suspiciously as she peered over the pensieve.

'Yeah, he said he was going to send them at a later date,' Leanne replied. She paused and said, 'I wish I had the memories now, though. Seeing my father would be the best Christmas present ever…'

'Yeah, but you need to remember that he's still dead,' Frieda said carefully, 'and that what you see in the pensieve is just an image, a memory. If you see him too much in the pensieve, and then you return to the real world to find out he isn't there, it can lead to depression and sadness. I should know, my – I mean…I read about it in a book…'

'But I never even saw my father and we don't really have any photographs of him in our house,' Leanne tried to explain, ignoring the fact that Frieda had obviously tried to cover something up and had now turned away, pretending to be interested in what Rabnott was doing. 'Even seeing him once, just to see what he looked like, just to see what his personality was like would be enough for me.'

'Okay then,' Frieda said slowly, eyeing the pensieve with trepidation. 'Just don't get carried away with it…'

Christmas dinner later on was perhaps the best thing she had ever eaten; there were a hundred roast turkeys, mountains of roast, huge platters of sausages, boiled potatoes, buttered peas and boats of gravy and cranberry sauce, which Leanne and Frieda were quick to tuck into. Harry Potter and the Weasleys (Ron, Fred, George and Percy) were also sitting with them and the Weasleys were all wearing jumpers; Ron's was maroon (much to his annoyance, it seemed); Fred and George's were both blue, though one had a large F in the middle, and the other a large G; Percy's was green, and he had pinned his prefect badge upon it proudly, puffing his chest out so that everyone had a clear view of it.

Most of the teachers were present as well. As usual, Dumbledore was sitting in the very middle of the staff table, with Professor McGonagall sitting on one side, and Professor Snape sitting on the other. For once, McGonagall was smiling, seemingly enjoying herself as she helped herself to some wine and chatted to Hagrid, who was sitting on her other side. Snape, meanwhile, was wearing his usual surly expression, and seemed like he would rather not be here at all.

He probably would much rather be trying to get the Philosopher's Stone, Leanne thought to herself, which surprised her; she had barely spoken about, or even thought about, the Philosopher's Stone for a few weeks now, but she knew that Snape obviously hadn't managed to get it, for he was still looking as cold as ever, and kept on glancing at Professor Quirrell, who was having a deep conversation with Professor Sprout.

'Cracker?' Dumbledore asked, holding out a cracker towards Snape, who took it begrudgingly, and it went off with a blast, which certainly made Leanne jump, and she whirled around to find the source of the noise.

Cribbage's Wizarding Crackers, as they were so called, were certainly much more entertaining than the Muggle crackers that Leanne's mother usually bought them at Christmas; like she had just observed, they went off like a cannon and engulfed everyone in a cloud of blue smoke. Inside were different types of hats, a joke, and several different items, including non-explodable, luminous balloons (which Frieda accidentally threw at poor Professor Flitwick as he passed, falling to the floor in his fright), several white mice (which scurried hastily away as Mr Norris eyed them up hungrily) and a wizard chess set.

Once they were full to bursting with food, Leanne and Frieda went outside into the cold grounds. The lake had completely frozen over and several feet of snow had fallen. Leanne built a snowman, which Frieda bewitched to dance around an annoyed-looking Filch, whilst Harry and the Weasley twins engaged in a large snowball fight, during which a stray snowball hit Leanne in the face, rendering it red and raw for the rest of the day. Fred Weasley quickly apologised, saying it was aimed at Percy, who unfortunately overheard and threatened to deduct house points from Gryffindor.

After that, they returned to the Gryffindor common room, wet and shivering, where Leanne and Frieda quickly found seats by the fireplace and decided to play with the chess set that they had obtained from the crackers. Frieda knew the basic rules, and Leanne was quite good at chess, though she quickly found out that wizarding chess was very different from the chess that Muggles played. As well as the chess pieces physically attacking their opponents, they also moved via verbal commands, and each piece had their own personality. This meant that some of them were annoyed at Leanne when she directed one of her pieces to its demise, and although many of them shouted advise, a few of them seemed to only have insulting words to offer. One of them became so frustrated with Leanne's tactics that he actually moved off the board and stood watching the rest of the game with its arms folded. Nevertheless, Leanne still managed to win, and Frieda took the loss very badly, blaming it on her chess pieces, and when they protested, she threatened to feed them to Rabnott.

'Hey, Leanne, isn't that your owl?' Ron shouted out across the common room, pointing to the closed window.

There was a grey owl flapping against the window, trying to gain entry. Leanne rushed over, threw open the window and quickly closed it again once Silverstone was inside, for a frosty chill had already invaded the common room.

Silverstone had a message tied to his foot. Leanne quickly removed it and read through it silently:

_Leanne,_

_I hope you have had a good Christmas, and Roger thanks you for the Gobstones that you gave him. I know that you are having fun at Hogwarts, but it isn't the same at home without you and I hope that you will be coming home next year. Roger tells me that you've made some friends at Hogwarts and that you're doing well in your lessons. I'm so proud of you and I hope you do very well in your exams._

_Love from mum_

_(Tessa Davies)_

However, the letter didn't end there. At the bottom was another paragraph, this time with completely different handwriting, much like the scrawling handwriting that had been on the label to the pensieve Leanne had received that morning. It said:

_It is me, Travers. I was unable to send you a letter of my on, so I was forced to intercept the letter from your mother and add to it. Your owl very fiercely tried to protect the letter and it was only when I gave him several owl treats that he finally allowed me to take it and write my own message._

_First of all, I am terribly sorry that I have not been able to speak to you lately, but I have been extremely busy as of late. However, Wheezy says that you have many questions concerning what I am doing and what the Philosopher's Stone has to do with this. Do not think I have forgotten about you, because I have not. In fact, I wish to speak to you soon. How does the 16th January sound? If you free that day at midnight, please send me a letter back. Just tell your owl to find me, and he'll do the rest. _

_Second of all, I hope you received your present off me, even though it was technically yours – or, at least, your father's – to begin with. Like I said in the label accompanying the pensieve, I was not able to send any memories just yet, though I will be able to send them much sooner than I expected if your owl will carry them. However, it will still take a while to sort the memories out and find the ones that will be of most interest to you._

_Finally, should you wish to speak to me urgently, contact Wheezy – he works in the school kitchens, as you know – and he will quickly appear at my side to inform me._

_I hope you have had a very good Christmas._

_From Derrick Travers_

'What does it say?' Frieda asked curiously after Leanne had looked up; she passed the letter to her, and she started reading.

'Well, at least I know that he hasn't forgotten about me,' Leanne said slowly once Frieda had finished reading, 'but I wish we could speak sooner – the 16th of January is still quite a way off…'

'At least everything will become clearer when you speak to him, though,' Frieda pointed out, lowering her voice as Harry and Ron had moved quite close to be near the Gryffindor fire. 'You'll be able to find out if Snape really is after the Philosopher's Stone and all that. Perhaps if Travers knows that Snape is after it as well, we might all be able to tell Dumbledore, and then he'll have to believe us!'

That was a bonus, at least, Leanne thought to herself. Snape might not have managed to procure the Philosopher's Stone just yet, but he would keep on trying and eventually he would get past that three-headed dog of Hagrid's that he had spoken about to Quirrell after Gryffindor's match with Slytherin. Obviously, there were other protections and enchantments; Snape himself had set up one, but he'd be able to easily get past that, and although Quirrell also had done something to help defend it, judging from his nervous disposition, Snape would be able to obtain the necessary information from him about how to get past it. The only thing that was keeping Leanne's hopes up was that Dumbledore himself must also have helped protect it; no matter how clever Snape was, she thought, there would be no way that he'd be able to get past Dumbledore's defences.

Leanne quickly wrote a letter of reply to Travers, explaining that January 16th was fine (although she would have liked to speak sooner than that) and tied it to Silverstone's leg.

'Give this to Derrick Travers,' Leanne told him, and thrust the owl out of the common room window (allowing another bitter chill to enter). Silverstone quickly regained his balance and flapped away into the darkness.


	12. Chapter 11: Old Memories

– **Chapter Eleven – **

Old Memories 

**Over the next few weeks, Leanne started counting down the days to January the 16th, though it was approaching painfully slow. **Christmas passed, and those that had spent the holidays with their families arrived back at Hogwarts on the 5th of January, just in time to see the snowfall that they had been having for several weeks turn into rain. Naturally, Leanne and Frieda were quick to tell Duncan everything that had happened over the Christmas holidays, and was just as excited about Travers' upcoming visit as Leanne was.

However, her excitement was pushed quickly to the back of her mind as, overnight, the Christmas decorations vanished, and lessons, which Leanne had almost forgotten about, resumed. Which, much to Leanne's displeasure, included endearing double Potions every Friday once again, and judging from the continued way that Snape was taking numerous house points from Gryffindor and snapping at most of his pupils, his holiday experience had not been a merry one. Although Leanne and the rest of the Gryffindors tried their best to avoid eye contact with Snape (doing so often caused house points to be taken from Gryffindor for no reason whatsoever), Snape had combated this by standing in front of the instructions on the board so that Leanne had no choice but to look at him.

'A point from Gryffindor,' Snape declared as Leanne accidentally glanced towards him as their first lesson was about to draw to a close, 'for making unnecessarily rude faces towards the teacher.'

Leanne had not been making any faces towards Snape, and although she and Ron Weasley, by the way he was opening his mouth angrily, started to protest, a threatening look from the Potions master swiftly shut them up and they returned to adding the finishing touches to their potion before Snape decided to make up another pathetic excuse to deduct house points from Gryffindor.

Indeed, the steady disappearance of Gryffindor house points from the large hour glasses in the entrance hall seemed to have finally been noticed. Snape was taking House points away faster than they were being earned, and upon learning about this, Professor McGonagall hastened to award Harry Potter and Lavender Brown ten house points each for opening the windows during their next Transfiguration class.

January the 16th was slowly, but steadily, approaching, Leanne discovered after consulting the calendar that night – it was only next Thursday, which meant she wouldn't have to cope with another Potions lesson before talking to Travers. Leanne had hoped that she would receive one of her father's memories very soon, though her hopes were soon dashed as the days slid past and nothing arrived with Silverstone.

Frieda and Duncan were also eager for Travers to contact Leanne, though perhaps not for the same reason Leanne harboured; whereas she simply wanted to speak to Travers and learn more about him, and her father, Frieda and Duncan were becoming increasingly nervous that Snape might have succeeded in obtaining the Philosopher's Stone before January the 16th. Leanne, too, was worried about this, but the fact that Snape remained as sour and as venomous as always told her that he had not yet managed to get his hands on the Philosopher's Stone.

'But maybe he's always like that, even when he's happy,' Duncan suggested as they walked towards Defence Against the Dark Arts, when Leanne told him what she had been thinking.

'I doubt it,' Leanne replied. 'If he had managed to get the Philosopher's Stone, he'd probably have left the school. He wouldn't need the job if he could use the Stone to turn any metal into gold. No, he's still probably trying to get past that three-headed dog he spoke about.'

'I've been wondering about that,' Duncan mused softly, as they entered the classroom and took their usual seats at the back of the classroom, where Quirrell's eyes rarely wandered. 'Where is this three-headed dog? I imagine that such a thing would be uncommon; if it's here in the school, where is it? I certainly haven't seen it…'

'It'll not be in sight, will it?' Frieda pointed out, as Quirrell began the lesson by taking the register (which took twice as long as in any other lesson because of Quirrell's stutter). 'It'll be hidden behind a locked door somewhere. Come to think of it…remember what Dumbledore said at the beginning of the year – that anyone entering the third floor corridor on the right hand side would die a very painful death – remember? Well, I bet that's where this three-headed dog is. On that third floor corridor!'

'Quiet at the b-back p-p-please!' Quirrell shouted in a thoroughly unconvincing stern voice, as Frieda's voice started to rise in excitement.

Leanne looked at Quirrell as he began the lesson, wondering whether he had had any more run-ins with Snape since the Quidditch match, and although he seemed as fine as ever, he often kept raising his hand to his turban and looked slightly paler than usual. He also seemed to avoid sitting next to Snape during mealtimes, Leanne had noticed, preferring instead to find a vacated spot at the other end of the staff table. Once or twice, Leanne was sure that Snape had been glaring at Quirrell, but she had quickly lowered her head once he had turned her way.

An apprehensive bubble floated inside Leanne as she awoke on the 16th of January, knowing that at midnight, she would be talking once again to Derrick Travers. Leanne had told Frieda that she would be able to hide behind a chair again and listen to what was going on (as long as she didn't cough this time), though Duncan was most annoyed that he, being a Ravenclaw, would be unable to do so and would have to wait until the following day to learn from Leanne and Frieda what had happened.

'Hey, look, it's Silverstone,' Frieda said with a mouth full of sausage during breakfast that day, and pointed; sure enough, Silverstone came swooping towards them, clutching what looked like a small parcel wrapped in brown paper. He dropped the parcel, though his accuracy could have been better, and Leanne had to lunge across the breakfast table to stop it from dropping into Percy Weasley's cereal; startled, Percy jumped backwards in surprise, his horn-rimmed glasses askew.

'It's from Travers,' Leanne said quietly, instantly recognising the scrawling handwriting that was on the parcel.

Silverstone hooted softly and landed haphazardly on the breakfast table, sending feathers flying, as Leanne eagerly ripped the paper off and opened the small box; inside, there was a small glass vial, which seemed to contain a silvery substance, though by looking at it, Leanne couldn't tell whether it was a liquid or a gas.

Leanne held up the letter, and Frieda leaned forward so that they could both read it together. It was very brief:

_Dear Leanne,_

_Here is one of the memories from your father's pensieve. I managed to track down your owl again and give him this. Please do not use the pensieve and this memory until you have spoken to me tonight. I hope all is well._

_From Derrick Travers_

Leanne quickly finished reading and glanced at the small bottle, now realising that what was inside must be a memory.

'I wonder what the memory contains,' Frieda said, sounding as excited as Leanne felt, as Silverstone tore at the corners of a book that Hermione Granger was reading over her porridge. 'Perhaps one of when your father was at Hogwarts. Maybe when he married your mother. Maybe when you were born or something. Just think – you'll get to see your father again…but remember what I said at Christmas – don't get too comfortable. Your father is still dead, no matter how many times you will see him in the pensieve. I hope you realise that.'

Leanne did realise, but she was too excited to really listen to what Frieda was talking about, and barely welcomed Duncan when he arrived at the Gryffindor table to say hello, leaving Frieda to tell him what Silverstone had just brought with him. She was about to see her father for the very first time…well, not the first time; after all, she had seen her father when she had been very young, though she had been far too young to remember what he looked like, or what kind of personality he had. With the pensieve, however, she would be able to find out both, plus more. Thinking hard to herself, and smiling, she only looked round when Silverstone nibbled painfully on her ear, and was soon whisked away to Charms by the first-year Gryffindors.

The lessons that day were extremely vague and blurry to Leanne, who could only really think about that night and speaking with Travers again, and in her distracted state, she missed the vase of tulips (that she was supposed to be transfiguring into a vase of roses) completely, and ended up prodding Neville in the head. Professor McGonagall wasn't particularly happy, especially when Neville started sprouting horns, but refrained from taking house points from Gryffindor, since no one had yet managed to stop Snape's point-deducting rampage.

Finally, lessons came to a close, and, after bidding Duncan farewell, and promising that they would tell him everything that Travers said the following day, Leanne and Frieda hurried back to the common room to procure comfortable seats by the fireplace, even though it was still early and Leanne's meeting with Travers was only to take place at midnight.

The time seemed to go by slower than Leanne thought possible; an hour seemed like four hours, and by eight o clock, Leanne was sure she had been waiting there for what seemed like a day. The wind rattled against the windows, and rain lashed down, though the windows were shut tight, ensuring that everyone within the Gryffindor common room remained warm and snug, especially by the blazing fire. However, after a few hours more had passed, with one side of Leanne's face considerably warmer and redder than the other, Leanne was starting to regret sitting beside the fire, but daren't give up her seat in case Travers appeared in the fire whilst there were still other people in the room; if such a thing happened, Leanne was ready to leap up in front of the fireplace to block his head from view.

The first years were the first to bed, and Leanne would have been inclined to join them if this was not a very important night. Percy Weasley told them sternly that they should go to bed, or else they would be tired in the morning, but seemed friendlier towards them when they pretended to be working on some difficult Astronomy homework. Finally, when it seemed like the Weasley twins were about to stay up all night, they yawned and headed to bed at five to twelve.

'Quick, behind the chair!' Leanne cried urgently, and no sooner had Frieda dived behind the nearest armchair and concealed herself, than the head of Derrick Travers appeared in the fireplace like last time; the flames were once again licking his ears and chin, though it didn't seem to affect him and instead smiled as he saw Leanne.

'Hello,' he said graciously.

'Hi,' Leanne said. 'It's about time you came back. I've not seen you in months, I was afraid that you – '

'That I what? Had abandoned you?' Travers asked, guessing it at once. 'Of course not, Leanne. I'm still extremely happy that I found out about you, and I, myself, wish that I could have spoken to you much more frequently than this, but I have been very busy.'

'Yes, Wheezy told me,' Leanne replied, remembering her late-night visit from the house elf. 'He told me that you had important jobs. What sort of important jobs?'

Travers, or at least, his head, paused. 'I was still undecided about whether to tell you this, Leanne, but I think it's best that you know,' he said finally. 'There is a very powerful and precious artefact hidden in Hogwarts, called the Philosopher's Stone. Now, I – '

'I know about the Philosopher's Stone,' Leanne said quickly. 'Wheezy kind of let it slip and then I did some research on it. It's a stone that grants immortality, isn't it? And it can turn any metal into gold, right?'

'That's right,' Travers said, looking extremely surprised that Leanne knew about this. 'Er…well…it was once being held at Gringotts, but it was moved to Hogwarts for its own safety. For it seems that someone has recently taken to attempt to steal the Stone…'

'You think it's Professor Snape, don't you?' Leanne blurted out.

'How do you – ?' Travers asked, once again looking very shocked, but quickly recovered. 'I see you've been doing your homework, Leanne…'

'Well, not exactly,' Leanne said. 'I overheard you speaking to Snape a few months ago. You were in the fireplace in an empty classroom. You were saying that something was clearer than it had been for ages or something, and that it was very convenient that Snape had a part in protecting the Philosopher's Stone.'

Travers was even more surprised, but then he looked at Leanne proudly. 'Well, you certainly seem to have a skill at roaming the corridors at night and finding out things that most students don't know,' he said, gazing rather fondly now at Leanne. 'Your father was very much the same, often wandering the school after dark – rarely caught as well…but I digress. We shall talk about your father very soon, but yes, I have been exceedingly busy as of later, and yes, I do suspect Severus Snape.'

'Why?' Leanne asked, even though she, too, was highly suspicious of the Potion master.

'Severus and I were at school together, but not in the same year,' Travers replied. 'We were never the best of friends, but he liked me a bit more than James Potter and his group of friends. Your father and I sometimes helped Severus when his confrontations with James and Sirius became violent, but he never seemed to like us for it. Quite the opposite, in fact; he didn't like us saving him, it made him look like he was weak and defenceless, when, of course, he was not – one of the best pupils at Defence Against the Dark Arts at my time, he was. Probably one of the reasons he wanted that post a few years after he had left Hogwarts.'

'Why does he teach Potions then?' Leanne enquired.

'Because Dumbledore refused to give Snape the job, and instead offered him the post as Potions master, another subject that he was extremely good at,' Travers explained. 'That hasn't stopped Severus from applying for the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts every year since then, though, but Dumbledore keeps denying him…'

'But why?'

'Don't ask me,' Travers replied. 'Ask Dumbledore. Something to do with Severus being a little too fond and familiar with the Dark Arts for it to be safe for him to teach that subject. Which is also one of the reasons why I suspect Snape of being after the Philosopher's Stone. Who wouldn't want it, after all? Recently, I have been learning as much of the Philosopher's Stone as I have been able to, and I have been doing research on the various enchantments and spells placed to protect it, aided, of course, by Wheezy. However, thus far, I have only gleamed that a large, three-headed dog is protecting it, and there seems to be no way of getting past it. Poor Wheezy was nearly eaten as he investigated…'

'Do you have proof that Snape is after the Philosopher's Stone?' Leanne asked, hoping that he would have.

'No,' Travers said heavily. 'Severus has a very good story, and without evidence of any kind, I cannot approach Dumbledore and tell him of his staff problems.'

'Why would Dumbledore even appoint Snape as a teacher in the first place?' Leanne wondered, almost to herself.

'Who knows,' Travers said, and Leanne was sure that if he had shoulders, he would be shrugging. 'I do know, however, that although Albus Dumbledore is a great man, and probably the most powerful wizard in recent years, he does has his flaws. He is exceedingly trusting, perhaps too much for his own good. He always sees the best of people, and not the worse. However, he was wise enough not to allow Snape become the Defence Against Dark Arts teacher when he first arrived.' Travers paused for a moment and went on, 'But enough about Severus Snape. Let's talk about your father, which I am sure you are extremely eager to do so.'

Leanne nodded enthusiastically. 'Yeah, I want to know about him, everything about him,' she said.

'To say everything would take several years,' Travers replied with a smile, 'but I shall tell you some important details about dear Evan. He was born in 1957 – I forget his birth date – to Donald and Patricia Rosier, both magical, which made Evan a pure-blood. He never boasted about his bloodline, however, unlike some people at school that I could mention, such as Lucius Malfoy, who was in his fifth year when we first started. Evan's father – your grandfather – Donald, left a few years after Evan was born, saying that he did not want care of her son. I never found out what made him do that, or why Patricia and Donald's marriage fell apart. Something made me think that Evan knew, but he never let on; whenever we veered anywhere near that subject, he'd always change it quickly.

'Anyway, Evan was brought up by Patricia, and he hardly ever saw his father again,' Travers continued, and Leanne felt a stab of pity for her long-dead father. 'After school, he told me that he'd managed to track him down, but by then, Donald was aging and ill. From what little information I managed to get from Evan hinted that Donald was on his last legs – he's probably been dead for several years now.

'But I've gone too far,' Travers realised, backtracking. 'Evan and I were best friends during our school years. We were quite popular, though not as popular as James Potter and his little gang. James, of course, was killed by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, along with his wife, Lily Potter – she was in his year as well, Head Boy and Head Girl during their last year. His son, Harry, is in your year as I am sure you know. Sirius is in Azkaban, Peter is dead, and who knows where Remus is. But anyway, Evan and I got along pretty well, the teachers liked us, we got good grades, we were good at Quidditch – both of us were on the house team for a few years. We both got the O.W.L.s that we wanted and then we left school.'

'When did he meet my mother?' Leanne asked.

'The year after he left Hogwarts,' Travers replied, smiling. 'They were a happy couple – they were meant for each other, and it's no wonder that they decided to have a kid at such a young age. He was only twenty when your brother, Roger, was born – your mother nineteen. Some say that they rushed into it, but everyone was doing it, especially now that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was now at large with his followers. You were born three years later. Anyway, they were about to get married as well, but alas, it was not to be; your father was killed in 1980, just a few months after you were born. But, like I've said before, I'm not entirely sure how Evan died. At the hands of Death Eaters, everyone says, and it certainly seems most likely.'

'Where was my mum when all of this happened?' Leanne enquired. 'And where was Roger?'

'Both of them were out, it seems,' Travers replied. 'So were you. Visiting a relative, perhaps. Without consulting your mother – and I'd rather not do that, not yet, at least – we won't know. It's fortunate, anyway, for if you, your brother and your mother had been in the house at the time of your father's death, the rest of you would have been killed by Death Eaters. From what I know, you, Roger and Tessa returned to the house a few hours after your father had been killed, and what happened after that is a much a mystery to me as it is to you. If your mother is unwilling to divulge information to you about the matter, it is highly unlikely that she will pass it on to me.'

'So what's in here?' Leanne asked, holding up the vial of what was apparently a memory.

'A memory of your father's that I am sure you will find extremely enlightening and enjoyable,' Travers said with a smile. 'I shall not spoil its contents, but I advise you to find a quiet place in the castle, pour the memory into the pensieve and then lower your head into it. You will then see your father's recollection as if you were there. It has not been easy sifting through the memories, I can say that, but I think you will enjoy this one the most. I shall send other memories at a later date, no doubt, though don't count on them arriving too soon. For one, your owl doesn't seem very reliable, and for another, I shall be once again extremely busy with researching the Philosopher's Stone and trying to procure hard evidence that Severus Snape is trying to steal it.'

'When should I use the memory?' Leanne asked.

'Whenever you so wish,' Travers replied, 'though I suggest that you get some sleep tonight and enter the pensieve tomorrow when you are wide awake and can appreciate it more – '

Leanne blinked; Travers had opened his mouth in surprise and had vanished abruptly. Turning, Leanne quickly saw why. Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost had just sailed through the entrance to the common room was gliding over to where Leanne was standing, who was trying not to look suspiciously to either the fireplace or the chair behind which Frieda was hidden, and now peeking around.

'Ah, Leanne, I've been sent to give you a message,' Nearly Headless Nick said, which caught Leanne off guard. Who would be giving Nick a message to give to Leanne at this late hour?

'Oh…what is it?' Leanne asked, still trying to look as casual as possible, though fully aware that she was standing in a highly suspicious manner.

'I heard from one of the portraits along the sixth floor corridor that Professor Dumbledore wishes to speak to you in his office immediately,' Nearly Headless Nick replied. 'I shall lead the way if you do not know where his office is located. But then I must be off…Peeves is causing trouble in the owlery, so I need to find the Bloody Baron quickly…'

'Dumbledore wants to see me?' Leanne asked, her voice hollow as she stood frozen to the spot. 'What for?'

'The woman in the portrait did not say,' Nick replied, 'only that you were to go to his office immediately. I daresay that he will tell you shortly. Now come, I'm in a hurry…we're going to have some very featherless owls in the morning if Peeves isn't stopped…'

Leanne forced herself to move forward, her heart pounding. Dumbledore knew, Leanne realised, he knew about Travers and her secret meetings with him. He was going to shout at her, no doubt, and then Travers would be in trouble, and so would Frieda…Perhaps Dumbledore would even expel Leanne, she thought desperately as she walked as slowly as possible towards the impatient Nearly Headless Nick. That would make Snape happy, if I were expelled, she added bitterly to herself.

'Oh, and Dumbledore said you are to bring the memory with you,' Nearly Headless Nick added, looking slightly puzzled. 'At least, I think that's what the woman in the portrait said. Anyway, come on, no time for dawdling,' he chided sternly, forcing Leanne to pick up the pace on her shaking legs as she crossed the common room. 'I've got to stop Peeves from causing any more damage or Filch'll go mad!'


	13. Chapter 12: The Phoenix and the Pensieve

– **Chapter Twelve – **

The Phoenix and the Pensieve 

**Nearly Headless Nick led Leanne through the school to the second floor, Leanne's heart pounding as she went.**Was she about to get shouted at by the Headmaster for communicating with Travers through the fireplace? Was she about to get expelled? And how did Dumbledore know that Travers had been in the fireplace that night?

She followed Nearly Headless Nick on shaking legs as he glided along in front of her. Finally, he stopped in front of a large and ugly stone gargoyle on the second floor, and said clearly, 'Sherbet lemon.'

Leanne assumed that this must have been a password, for the gargoyle suddenly sprang to life, hopping aside as the wall behind it started splitting in two, revealing a spiral staircase that seemed to be moving smoothly upwards, much like a Muggle escalator. Nearly Headless Nick motioned to Leanne that she should step onto it, and when she did so, the wall behind her closed with a thud, obscuring Nick from view, who was no doubt gliding off to find the Bloody Baron. The stairs upon which Leanne was now standing rose steadily upwards in a spiral motion until at last, they stopped, and Leanne saw a large oak door before her. She stepped off the stairs and walked slowly and apprehensively towards the door, which had a brass knocker in the shape of a griffon. She raised a shaking hand and rapped on the door.

'Come in,' said a voice from behind the door that was unmistakably Professor Dumbledore's.

Leanne slowly pushed open the door and entered Dumbledore's office and almost stepped back in awe; it was certainly a most interesting room, and for a few seconds, the fear that she'd been harbouring about being expelled was temporarily displaced by immense curiosity. The room was large, circular and beautiful. There were windows at the back of the room, which was understandably pitch black since it was past midnight, and the office was lit only by candlelight. Various silver instruments sat on spindle-legged tables, whirring to themselves, though the largest table was a huge, claw-footed desk, behind which Dumbledore sat on a high-backed chair, smiling serenely at Leanne as she slowly entered the room and closed the door behind her.

'Please, sit down,' Dumbledore said, indicating to another chair that sat in front of his desk, which was highly polished and covered in stacks of paper, a silver ink pot and a handsome scarlet quill.

As Leanne moved over to the desk, feeling slightly more at ease (Dumbledore didn't sound angry), she noticed that the walls were covered with portraits of what looked like old headmasters and headmistresses (most of which were sleeping, though some were looking at Leanne with intrigue), and a shelf behind Dumbledore's desk seemed to hold the Sorting Hat, which had placed Leanne into Gryffindor back in September. Another wall had a large fireplace built into it.

Leanne sat down on the chair opposite Dumbledore in silence, waiting for him to speak. However, before he did so, she heard a soft cooing sound from behind her; whirling around, she saw a large, swan-sized bird sitting on a perch on the back of the door. It was extremely handsome, scarlet in colour, with golden tail feathers that were long and streaming. Its talons and beak were also golden, but its eyes were jet-black.

'Ah, I see you have noticed Fawkes,' Dumbledore said pleasantly, also looking at the bird. 'He is a phoenix, Leanne,' he added, when she looked back in confusion at him. 'Very magical birds, especially their tail feathers; they are often used as wand cores and are capable of carrying immense weight. And their tears have remarkable healing powers – can heal wounds and cure nearly every poison know to the wizarding world…'

'Is it like a pet?' Leanne asked curiously.

'I wouldn't call it a pet, more like a companion,' Dumbledore replied with a smile. 'Very few wizards over the years have managed to domesticate a phoenix, and I pride myself as one of the few who have actually managed it. Of course, as well as being a trusted companion, Fawkes is also extremely helpful – he is able to send messages for me. But I digress. As interesting and as beautiful my phoenix is, discussing it was not the reason why I summoned you here at this late hour, Leanne.'

Leanne said nothing, and Dumbledore continued: 'I have recently become aware of you communicating with a man called Derrick Travers, and I believe you have spoken to him tonight using the Floo Network, if I am not gravely mistaken.'

'How do you know that?' Leanne blurted out suddenly, without thinking, but instead of being reprimanded by the Headmaster, he merely smiled at her.

'The Gryffindor common room is not the only room in the castle that connects to the Floo Network,' Dumbledore said, indicating to his own fireplace. 'Normally, it is not my business to eavesdrop on students' private conversations, but after finding out that you were planning on speaking with this man tonight, I decided to find out what exactly he wished to speak with you about.'

'But why?' Leanne blurted out again. 'And how did you know that I was going to speak to him?'

Again, Dumbledore smiled gently. 'Perhaps it is unwise to speak of your personal business so loudly whilst in your Potions lesson,' he explained. 'As for your first question, I'm afraid it will take some time to answer, and I suspect that you will not be very happy with what you have to say. First of all, much of what Derrick told you tonight is very much exaggerated, if not completely fictional.'

Leanne was taken aback slightly. 'I don't know what you mean,' she said slowly.

'It is of deepest regret that I inform you that Derrick Travers is not the man that he says he is,' Dumbledore continued, now looking much more sombre. 'During the reign of Lord Voldemort, in the 1970s, he gathered around him many followers, known as Death Eaters. These, as you very well may know, did much of his bidding and often killed wizards that Voldemort did not consider worthy enough to be killed be himself.' He paused, wondering whether to tell Leanne this next bit, but plunged on ahead nonetheless and said, 'Derrick Travers was such a Death Eater, I am afraid.'

Leanne stared at Dumbledore. Had he heard him correct? Travers had been a Death Eater?

'You say he _was _a Death Eater, does that mean he isn't one anymore?' Leanne asked quickly.

'Derrick is no longer a Death Eater,' Dumbledore confirmed, 'and, unlike most Death Eaters, he left Lord Voldemort's side before the night he was seemingly defeated by young Harry Potter. When he was captured a few months later, he came very quietly, claiming that he had not been under the control of Voldemort (which many wizards insisted they had been), agreeing to serve his punishment in Azkaban, the wizarding prison.'

'But why did he leave Vol – I mean, You-Know-Who's side?' Leanne asked curiously, still very shocked by this sudden revelation.

'Call him Voldemort, Leanne, it is much simpler that way,' Professor Dumbledore said with a small smile. 'But as to why he left Voldemort's side, I am not entirely clear. From what little information I have managed to gleam, I believe that Voldemort killed Derrick's family after he had given an unsatisfactory service, as punishment. However, Derrick, I believe, was incredibly angry at this action, and not only swiftly left the ranks of the Death Eaters, but also swore to enact revenge on Voldemort for killing his family, which I am sure he still intends to do.'

'But…' Leanne was confused now. 'I thought Who-Know – oh, I mean Voldemort, was already dead. Didn't he try to kill Harry with the Killing Curse, but ended up being killed himself?'

'That story, as with most stories, is only half-true,' Dumbledore replied, peering over his half-moon spectacles at Leanne. 'It is true, of course, that Lord Voldemort went to the house where Harry and his parents were living in Godric's Hollow, and it is true that he turned his wand upon young Harry after killing his parents, and it is again true that he tried to perform the Killing Curse upon him. The spell was rebounded back upon Voldemort, and although it is true that he vanished that night, he was not killed. Though he was less than even a spirit, and he was ripped from his body, he was not killed.'

'How come?' Leanne asked.

'Alas, there is a long and complicated story accompanying that question, Leanne,' Dumbledore replied, 'and it is a story for another day. I will tell you, however, that Voldemort had previously gone down a long road to achieve immortality, going farther than any other wizard, which was how he managed to survive that night. Since that time, ten years ago, he has phased out of all knowledge, and from what I am aware of, he has not been found by any of his faithful Death Eaters. However, he has been steadily gaining power over the past few years. Derrick Travers is aware of this, and only recently has he taken action to try and kill Lord Voldemort before he becomes too powerful like he once was.'

Leanne's head was swimming. She was confused and she had so many questions that she wanted to ask. 'But…how does Travers know that Voldemort has been gaining power?' she finally wondered, it being the first question that popped into her mind.

'All Death Eaters were marked when they were under the service of Lord Voldemort,' Dumbledore replied. 'It was a skull, with a serpent protruding from its mouth, which was burned into every Death Eater's left inner forearm. Though the Dark Marks, as they are so called, have since faded since Voldemort's apparent demise, they have recently become clearer than they have been for ten years. Travers, who has such a mark on his arm, has noticed this and has come to the conclusion that the Dark Lord is still alive and is becoming increasingly stronger.'

'Clearer?' Leanne repeatedly, remembering something. 'I remember Travers saying that something had become clearer than it had been in ten years – when he was talking with Snape in an empty classroom.'

'Professor Snape, Leanne,' Dumbledore correctly gently, 'but yes, I was well aware of such a meeting. Derrick contacted Severus a few weeks before that particular meeting to arrange the details, and Severus quickly told me about what the letter contained. I told Severus to see what Derrick wanted, at night, when I presumed no one would be able to listen in to their conversation, but obviously I did not foresee your affinity to break school rules,' he added, his eyes twinkling.

'But why would Travers want to contact Snape…I mean, Professor Snape? And he – Snape – said that they had been punished for what they had done. What does that mean?' Leanne asked, the questions pouring out now. 'Travers seemed to think that Professor Snape was after the Philosopher's Stone. Is he really after it?'

'My, my, you certainly seem to know quite a lot about what is going on in this school for a first year,' Dumbledore said with a smile, 'but I shall, of course, answer your questions. Severus Snape was once, just like Derrick Travers, a Death Eater. However,' he said, raising his voice, as Leanne opened her mouth to say something, 'also like Derrick, he left the Death Eaters before Lord Voldemort was seemingly defeated, and rejoined our side, acting as a spy to give us inside information about Voldemort, the Death Eaters and their activities. Without the help of Severus, we would probably not know what we know now, and there may have well been many more casualties on our side. But rest assured, Leanne, Severus is no longer a Death Eater, nor does he still have loyalties towards Lord Voldemort, or else I would never have allowed him to teach at my school.'

'But how do you know that Snape wasn't just pretending to be a spy, and was actually on Voldemort's side, spying on you?' Leanne challenged, determined to make Snape out as an enemy.

'The information that Severus Snape gave us once he had rejoined our side hindered Lord Voldemort and his followers very much,' Dumbledore explained slowly. 'It is with great personal risk that he helped us, which is why I trust Severus very much.'

'But he seems to hate me,' Leanne muttered.

'Severus, it can be said, is not particularly fond of students who are not within his own house,' Dumbledore said with a smile. 'Do not let it worry you. But let me return to the set of questions you asked me earlier. You asked about the punishment that Severus and Derrick had received, am I correct?' Leanne nodded, and Dumbledore continued, 'Travers was punished for his actions and was sent to Azkaban for a number of years. As for Severus, his punishment was less physical; he received very little trust from the wizarding community for many years, who, just like you, were certain that he was still a Death Eater.'

'But why wasn't Snape sent to Azkaban if Travers was?' Leanne wondered, growing quite angry that a former Death Eater, one that was working in this very school, had not been punished very well.

'_Professor _Snape,' Dumbledore corrected again. 'Severus was not sent to Azkaban for two reasons. The first one was that he supplied us with useful information concerning Lord Voldemort and his followers, whereas Derrick Travers did not. The second reason was that I did not wish Severus to go to Azkaban, and I told the Ministry this in a trial once, not long after Lord Voldemort vanished, vouching for his loyalties. As such, Severus was not sentenced. Now,' he added, 'onto the subject that lies within your third question – the Philosopher's Stone.'

'Yes, sir,' Leanne said. 'My friends and I were certain that Professor Snape was trying to steal it.'

'Your friends and yourself have certainly been doing a lot of research on the subject, it seems,' Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling once again. 'No doubt you have learned what magical properties the Philosopher's Stone has by now. But I can assure you that Professor Snape is not trying to obtain the Philosopher's Stone.'

'But I heard him talking to Professor Quirrell about it,' Leanne protested, not wanting to pass the subject by so quickly. 'He said that Quirrell seemed to be suspicious of him. And then he was limping and he said that he had been bitten by that three-headed dog, or whatever it is.'

For once, Dumbledore seemed slightly troubled, but he quickly said, 'Ah yes, you have a certain aptitude for listening in one other people's conversations, though I am not one to talk, having eavesdropped on your discussion with Derrick Travers earlier tonight. But do not worry about these things that you have witnessed, Leanne. There is nothing to be concerned about.'

'But it seemed like Snape – sorry, Professor Snape – was trying to get past that three-headed dog,' Leanne argued.

'Often, though, things are often not what they seem, Leanne,' Dumbledore said gently. 'Please, try and place this in the back of your mind. This is of little importance to you, and it is nothing to worry about.'

'And we saw Professor Snape trying to hex Harry's broomstick – at the Quidditch match against Slytherin,' Leanne went on, trying to get her point across. 'We saw him muttering under his breath.'

'Again, please do not worry about this,' Dumbledore said softly, 'for this is not the reason why I summoned you here tonight.'

Leanne stared at Dumbledore. From what he had said, he sounded like he didn't want Leanne to be concerned about the fact that Snape was trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone. She was about to say more on the matter, but the look on Dumbledore's face stated clearly that he did not wish to continue talking about the subject, and Leanne moved on.

'How did Travers know my father?' she enquired. 'And why did he want to steal his pensieve?'

'Derrick Travers and your father were once friends when they attended Hogwarts,' Dumbledore replied after a moment's hesitation, his eyes no longer twinkling. 'Derrick wished to obtain your father's pensieve because he believed it would contain important information that he would find valuable.'

'What kind of information?' Leanne pressed.

'Derrick once owned a ring of very powerful magical properties,' Dumbledore explained, 'and although I do not know why, it was stolen from him by your father.'

'Stolen?' Leanne repeated, remembering that Travers had spoken about a ring when she had first talked to him in the Gryffindor fire in September. 'What magical properties did it have?'

'I'm afraid I do not know,' Dumbledore replied gravely, 'though I do know that Derrick needed the ring for his own personal use. However, I regret to say that I do not know why or what for, and…'

Dumbledore paused for so long that Leanne thought for a second that he had fallen asleep. Behind him on the walls, mainly portraits had awoken and were listening intently to Dumbledore's story, though they quickly pretended to be asleep again when Leanne looked up at them.

'Professor?' Leanne asked when Dumbledore continued to remain silent.

'You may not like the next part of what I have to say, Leanne,' Dumbledore said softly, 'and I think that you should see for yourself what happened when your father stole Derrick's ring, rather than me tell you.'

He stood up and went over to a black cabinet and opened it, withdrawing a shallow stone basin that Leanne recognised instantly as a pensieve, almost exactly the same as the one Travers had given Leanne for Christmas. He took the pensieve from the cabinet, and placed it on the desk in front of Leanne, before returning to his seat on the other side of the desk.

'I believe you have brought the memory with you, the one that was delivered earlier today by owl,' Dumbledore said, and Leanne pulled out the tiny jar of what looked like a white gas.

'How do you know what the memory contains?' Leanne asked inquisitively as Dumbledore took the jar, opened it and emptied the contents into the pensieve, where they quickly spread out.

'Though I am not certain what the memory contains, I do have a strong idea,' Dumbledore replied, 'and I also have a theory as to why Derrick gave you this particular memory – but, of course, we shall discuss this after we have entered the memory. Be warned, Leanne,' Dumbledore added, and for the first time, he sounded very grave, 'for what you are about to see could shock or disturb you.'

Once Leanne had nodded to say that she could handle it, Dumbledore continued, 'Very well then, we shall go ahead. You may go first. Place your face into the pensieve. I shall be along right after you.'

Leanne looked at Dumbledore, startled, and then obediently lowered her face into the pensieve and Dumbledore's office gave an almighty lurch; Leanne was thrown forward into the silvery substance; it was cold and black, like being sucked into a whirlpool –

Suddenly, she found herself standing in what appeared to be her house, though judging from the different coloured wallpaper, different ornaments and pictures on the wall (these ones were obviously magical, for the people inside the frames moved), it was her house a significant amount of time ago. She stood in the living room, looking around, until she felt, rather than saw, someone standing next to her. Jumping, she looked around and saw that it was Dumbledore, who was smiling faintly.

'This is – ' Leanne began.

'Your house,' Dumbledore finished, 'just over ten years ago.'

They were standing in a hallway; Leanne peered into a living room to see a clock ticking slowly by, some plush furniture and a large fireplace. There was no one there, so Dumbledore walked briskly up the hallway, Leanne right beside him, until they reached the kitchen. A man was standing in the middle of the kitchen. He was tall and thin, with slight stubble, and grey eyes, very much unlike Leanne's blue eyes. He was fingering a wand almost absent-mindedly. Leanne had the strongest urge to hide as the man turned to face them, but she quickly realised that he couldn't see them when he looked straight past them into the hall. This was just a memory after all, she realised.

'Is that my father?' Leanne asked, her voice a whisper as she looked intently at the man. She had never seen a photograph of him and therefore hadn't a clue what he looked like. He did bare a slight resemblance to Roger, however.

'Yes,' came Dumbledore's surprisingly short answer.

'He seems anxious,' Leanne pointed out, as her father started pacing the room, occasionally glancing into the living room to see what the time was, his grey eyes peering out of the window into the dark garden.

'True,' said Dumbledore, and Leanne looked at him, wondering what had brought on this sudden bout of exceedingly short replies, and was surprised to see him standing very still, looking very sadly towards Leanne's father. He had a very disturbed expression on his face.

'Professor, what's wrong?' Leanne asked, not taking her eyes off her father, whom she was seeing for the very first time.

'It is indeed the memory that I thought – and feared – that it would be,' Dumbledore replied. 'Look, there is a newspaper there with today's date on.' He pointed towards the _Daily Prophet_, which was lying on the worktop, and Leanne leaned in to inspect the day; it was the 23rd November on what must have been 1980. According to the front page, a Death Eater called Antonin Dolohov had been captured and sent to Azkaban.

There was a knock at the door and Leanne's father jumped, his wand in his hand. After a few seconds, he calmed down and moved quickly to the front door, Leanne and Dumbledore right behind him. He opened the door cautiously, breathed a sigh of relief and stood aside, letting a much younger Derrick Travers enter the house.

Leanne and Dumbledore glanced at each other as her father looked nervously at Travers and said, 'What did you want to speak to me about, Derrick? I trust you heard about Dolohov…'

'I heard,' Travers said, sounding cold. 'Have you changed your mind yet? Have you decided to give me my ring back?'

'No,' Leanne's father replied, and this time, _he_ sounded cold. 'I see you have not yet changed your loyalties, Derrick, and until you do, I think I will keep hold of your precious ring. I know what powers that ring possesses, and in the wrong hands – '

'Oh yeah, and what would you call the 'wrong hands', Evan?' Travers shouted back, his voice rising, 'because we both have very different opinions on what we think are the 'wrong hands'.'

'Is that all you came here for, tonight?' Leanne's father asked, sounding rather bored. 'To see whether I would give you that damned ring back? Because if you did, you're wasting your time, Derrick…'

'I came here to tell you that Aurors are on their way here to capture you,' Travers said slowly and quietly.

Leanne's father looked up in shock. 'What?' he roared, raising his wand menacingly. 'What? How do you know?'

'I know because I told them to come here to capture you,' Travers replied, his voice barely audible now. 'I told them where your house is…I am very sorry, but I needed to do it.'

Leanne's father didn't seem to believe what he was hearing. He cleared his ears out and said, surprisingly calmly, 'What? Why would you do such a thing, Derrick?'

'What are Aurors?' Leanne asked Dumbledore quietly, even though she knew neither Travers nor her father could hear her.

'A group of witches and wizards that battle Dark Wizards, mainly Lord Voldemort and his followers,' Dumbledore replied quickly so as not to hear anything that Travers was now saying.

'…know that I would never hurt you, Evan,' he said, glancing at the clock. 'You are my oldest friend, and no matter what sides we are on, I would never do anything to harm you – even if you don't feel the same way. I know that we are no longer on the same side, and as much as I want that ring, I would never try and take it by force, for doing so would kill you. But removing you from this house would suffice. I called the Aurors and told them that you were a Death Eater responsible for the deaths of many different wizards, witches and Muggles.'

'What!' Leanne's father roared, brandishing his wand, but Travers was already pointing his wand at Leanne's father's face.

There was a huge bang on the door, which made it buckle slightly. Both men exchanged glances and then looked towards the door, behind which there were figures, Leanne could see as she peered through the tainted window.

'Goodbye, Evan,' Travers said, sounding almost sad. 'I need to go now, or else I shall be taken as well. I hope Azkaban treats you well.'

He turned on the spot and vanished. Leanne's father, looking in fear at the front door, looked like he was about to do the same, but before he could do so, the front door flew inwards and a bolt of red light flew from one of the Auror's wand and hit Leanne's father at an angle, knocking him off his feet and into a glass cabinet, which shattered.

'I trust you are Evan Rosier,' the lead Auror said firmly, as Leanne looked on in horror, her heart pounding for the safety of her father (even though this was only a memory); she glanced from her father, who was groaning on the floor, to the Auror who had cast the spell, who was scarred and grizzled and had greying hair.

Leanne's father chose not to reply. Instead, he shouted, '_Stupefy!_' and the same red bolt of light shot from the end of his wand and hit one of the Aurors firmly in the chest, knocking him unconscious. The other Aurors leapt in battle, each pointing their own wand and sending their own spells towards Leanne's father. Leanne stood there, horrified, until Dumbledore grabbed her elbow gently and said, 'Let's go.' Leanne had no choice; she felt herself rising into the air, and the scene quickly dissolved. There was blackness and Leanne found herself back in Dumbledore's office.

'Why did we leave?' Leanne demanded angrily.

'Because I did not want you to see what was about to happen next,' Dumbledore replied quietly.

'Why, what happened?' Leanne enquired, even though, with a horrible sinking feeling, she already had a suspicion.

'Your father,' Dumbledore said with a great sigh, 'was killed in the struggle with the Aurors.'

Leanne was suddenly aware that she was very pale. She stared at Dumbledore, her hands shaking, but very thankful towards the Headmaster that he had pulled her away from the scene before she saw her father die before her eyes. She found it very hard to speak.

'But why did Travers tell the Aurors that my father was a Death Eater?' Leanne asked eventually, choking slightly.

Dumbledore paused for such a long time that Leanne wasn't sure if he had heard her or not. Finally, he said, very quietly and slowly, 'I do not know, Leanne. Perhaps Derrick was so obsessed with obtaining that ring that he was willing to do anything.'

'But what's so special about this ring?' Leanne cried. 'What does it do?'

'Alas, as I have said before, I am not sure,' Dumbledore replied, sounding apologetically, 'and nor, I believe, are many people. Perhaps only Derrick Travers know the real properties of this ring. I do, however, believe that the ring was somehow capable of helping the demise of Lord Voldemort, which Derrick would have been extremely eager to obtain, what with him wishing to defeat Voldemort after what he had done to him and his family.'

'But why did my dad take it off him in the first place?' Leanne demanded, aware that her voice was rising angrily. 'If it was capable of defeating Voldemort, why on earth would my father want to take it off Travers.'

'Once again, you are asking me a question that you have already asked,' Dumbledore reminded her quietly, 'and I'm afraid my answer remains the same; I, regretfully, do not know.'

'So, my father died because of a stupid ring,' Leanne said bitterly, remembering that she had said the same thing to Travers back in September when they had first met; she had now come to hate the person that she had once trusted and respected. He had, after all, been indirectly responsible for her father's death.

'Not just because of this ring,' Dumbledore said softly. 'There are other things that contributed towards your father's death, and although I will tell you in due time, that time is not now.'

'But…but why did it take him ten years to finally take the ring?' Leanne wondered. 'I mean, all that happened ten years ago, didn't it? But he only took the ring, and the pensieve, last September when he broke into our house and searched my father's old study. Why did it take him so long?'

'Derrick went into hiding for about a year, mainly because he wished to evade the wrath of Lord Voldemort, and also to escape from the Aurors that were undoubtedly also searching for him,' Dumbledore explained. 'On October 31st of the next year, Voldemort appeared to be vanquished, and Derrick realised that he no longer needed the use of the ring, which, as I have just explained, most probably had something to do with defeating Lord Voldemort. Derrick also realised that he had indirectly killed hid old friend, Evan, for nothing, and haunted by his guilt, did not resist arrest when he was taken to Azkaban shortly afterwards. He was later released, but of course thought Voldemort to be dead. It was only very recently, when the Dark Mark on his arm became clearer, that he realised that Voldemort was weakened, but not dead, and he sought out the ring, eager to kill Voldemort before he returned to his former power.'

'So he managed to succeed in stealing the ring from my dad's study?' Leanne asked. 'My mother said that only the pensieve was stolen. Perhaps he missed the ring…'

'No, I am almost positive that when Derrick raided your father's study, he found the ring,' Dumbledore said. 'Your mother would probably have not noticed if a small ring had gone missing, and I am pretty sure that it would have been well hidden, perhaps by an enchantment that only a fellow wizard or witch could break.'

'You said before we went into the pensieve that you had a theory as to why Travers had sent me this particular memory,' Leanne reminded him quickly, as it looked like the Headmaster was glancing towards the clock. 'What is it? Why would Travers send me my father's memory about the last moments before his death, and Travers' betrayal if he wishes to gain my trust for whatever reasons.'

'Ah, one thing that I must inform you before we continue,' Dumbledore said quietly. 'Contrary to what Derrick may have said, this is not a memory of your father's. To place a memory in a pensieve, you must extract it from your head and then place it within the bowl, and, as I am sure you will agree, this does not seem like it would have been on the top of Evan's to-do list when he was being attacked by Aurors. Therefore, I have come to conclusion that this is a fusion of two memories.'

'Two memories?' Leanne echoed.

'Yes,' Dumbledore replied. 'During your conversation with Derrick tonight, he said that he had been extremely busy doing research on the Philosopher's Stone, which was why he had been unable to contact you very often. Maybe so, but the main thing I believe that Derrick has been doing is joining two memories – one from his own mind, up until the part where he Apparated, and one from the mind of the main Auror, a man named Alastor – to make it look like it was your father's memory. A fiddly job, no doubt, but he has managed to get it perfect and seamless.'

'But why would he go to all that trouble?' Leanne asked.

'Because I believe that he wished you to see Travers' own betrayal, and your father's death at the hands of the Aurors,' Dumbledore explained, 'and to do that required the fusion of two memories from two different people.'

'But like I said, why would he try and earn my trust since September, when he's just sent me a memory of him betrayal my father, which led to his death?' Leanne asked.

'Yes, it has puzzled me, I must admit, as to why Derrick has tried to befriend you over the past few months,' Dumbledore said, a frown crossing his face, 'and it also confused me slightly as to why Derrick also took the pensieve from your father's study as well. Perhaps he used it to find the exact location of the ring in your father's study, perhaps he took it for different reason. However, onto my theory: my best guess is that Derrick Travers needs you somehow.'

'Needs me?' Leanne echoed, perplexed.

'Yes, I believe that Derrick has been gaining your trust over the last few months because he wishes to lure you into a false sense of security, trying to get you to believe that he was a good man,' Dumbledore said, surveying Leanne over his half-moon spectacles. 'Which is why I also believe that he sent you this particular memory to turn your opinion of him upside down. He hoped, if I am not drastically wrong, that you would become so angry with him that you would want to enact your revenge upon him and seek him out.'

'Yeah, I'm angry – I hate him so much,' Leanne said fiercely, 'but I wouldn't dream of hunting him down. I know he's a lot more powerful than I am. But, why would he even want me to go after him?'

'Because, like I said, he needs you,' Dumbledore replied. 'He knows he is unable to get to you inside the castle because of the protection that I, and the other teachers, offer you, and he also knows that it is impossible to Apparate inside Hogwarts. So he gave you this memory in the hope you would leave the castle in search of him to get your revenge. Obviously, his plan would not have worked, since we both know that searching for Derrick Travers alone would be highly unwise. However, as to why he needs you, I am unsure, and I hope to gleam more information on this matter in the coming months. But I warn you that you should stay within Hogwarts at all times. Whilst you are here, you are protected, but once you are outside the castle grounds, you will be defenceless. Therefore, it is imperative that you do not go wandering, especially in times like this.'

'Yes, professor,' Leanne promised, having no desire whatsoever to go searching for Travers.

'And also, inform your friends not to go wandering or else he may use them to get to you,' Dumbledore added. 'No doubt you will be telling Miss McFarlan and Mr Chambers of what I have told you tonight, but I suggest that you tell nobody else.' Dumbledore seemed to notice that Leanne had more questions to ask and stopped her. 'We have both had a busy night and we are now well immersed in the early hours of the morning, so I think it is time to end our little meeting, since you have lessons tomorrow.'

Leanne looked at the clock and noticed that it was almost two o clock; she had been in Dumbledore's office (and inside the pensieve) for nearly an hour and a half.

'Is there anything you wish you say to me before we both retire to our beds?' Dumbledore asked.

'Yes,' Leanne said, remembering suddenly. 'Travers has a house elf working here at Hogwarts. His name is Wheezy – he was following me for a while, learning things about me.'

'I will make sure the house elf in question is removed from the school,' Dumbledore replied. 'Now, since you may oversleep tomorrow due to your tiredness, I shall give Professor Snape an excuse as to why you are late for Potions if you do not arrive at his lesson on time. And don't worry, I shall also be having gentle words with Severus about the extraordinary number of house points he is taking from Gryffindor as of late. But now, you really must go. And Leanne,' he added, his eyes twinkling again as she got to her feet and headed for the door, 'I highly recommend that you stick to the shadows on your way back to the Gryffindor tower; encountering either Peeves or Mr Filch on the way back to the seventh floor with be very undesirable.'

Leanne smiled and exited Dumbledore's office, the soft crooning sound of Fawkes the phoenix fading away into the distance as she descended the moving, spiral staircases, emerged onto the second floor and tiptoed her way back to the Gryffindor common room.


	14. Chapter 13: Into the Forest

– **Chapter Thirteen – **

Into the Forest 

'**I knew there was something not right about him!' Frieda declared after Leanne had told her what Dumbledore had said last night during their Potions lesson. **'I told you not to take his word for everything, back in September, remember?'

'You've changed your story,' Leanne muttered, bent low over her cauldron so it looked like she was hard at work. 'Yesterday, you were adamant that Snape was trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone…'

'Yeah, well, so were you,' Frieda shot back. 'But, I guess, if Dumbledore says Snape is innocent, well, he must be. I can't imagine Dumbledore being wrong about something like that.'

'He may not be after the Stone, but I still don't trust him,' Leanne said quietly, glancing over to where Snape was bending over Draco Malfoy's cauldron to give it praise. 'After all, he was a Death Eater, just like Travers, so I wouldn't put it past him to 'accidentally' slip some poison into someone's cauldron. And when I mentioned Snape and Quirrell's little meeting after the Quidditch match, he said that it was nothing of concern and that I shouldn't worry about it. Something tells me that Dumbledore is hiding a few things from me, but I daren't go back now and ask him about it. I mean, he was kind enough to stop Snape from deducting more house points from Gryffindor, which seems to have worked, at least.'

For the first time ever, a single house point had not yet been taken from Gryffindor during the lesson, not even when Neville accidentally overturned the contents of his cauldron over Goyle. A venomous look from Snape was all that Neville received, but judging from the Potion master's twitching hands and curling lips, he would have loved nothing better than to take twenty house points from Gryffindor.

Leanne had entered the lesson late because she had overslept, but Dumbledore had obviously had words with Snape about this as well; though his mouth opened triumphantly, as if about to punish Leanne, he quickly refrained himself, and bitterly told Leanne to get to her cauldron. However, he did turn a blind eye when no fewer than three Slytherins attempted to trip Leanne up as she headed for her place next to Frieda, who had been eager to learn what had happened with Dumbledore, though happy that she hadn't been expelled.

For Leanne, it seemed like her world had been turned upside down; she had trusted Derrick Travers, believed every word that he had said, for he had been the only person in the world to actually speak about her father in detail. She hadn't suspected him even in the slightest, and whereas this time the previous day she had been excited for her meeting with Travers, she now harboured a deep hatred for him, and wished never to see or speak to him ever again. He had, after all, been responsible for the death of her father, and although he hadn't meant for him to be killed by the Aurors, the fact that he had betrayed her father in the first place was inexcusable.

She would have loved nothing better than to hit Travers with a few hexes and curses if she ever saw him again, but knew not to go hunting for him, for Travers had many more years of wizarding experience than Leanne did, who was still struggling to use even basic spells.

'He's still a bitter old bat,' Frieda said, smiling, indicating to Snape, who was whipping around the classroom, inspecting everyone's concoctions, and turning his nose up at nearly everyone's.

'He's better than he usually is,' Leanne pointed out, 'though he's still worse than all the other teachers.'

'I still think Snape's up to something,' Frieda said, once again changing her story; a few moment's ago, she had been willing to believe that Snape was innocent if Dumbledore had said he was. 'I mean, it wasn't exactly a friendly chat he was having with Quirrell, was it? And he _did _try to get past the three-headed dog, remember? He was limping for a few days afterwards.'

Leanne nearly slapped her forehead. 'I forgot to tell Dumbledore about that,' she almost cried out. 'Maybe he doesn't know about that. I mean, how else would you get injured by it if he wasn't trying to get past it?'

'The Headmaster may have had words with me recently,' said Snape silkily, who had appeared over their cauldron, 'about myself deducting house points from Gryffindor for what he believes are minimal, sometimes non-existent, crimes. However,' he added unpleasantly, 'I will not tolerate repeated talking in my class, especially,' he leaned over Leanne's cauldron and looked inside, 'from those whose Memory Potions are far below the standards that I expect in my class. Five points from Gryffindor.'

Leanne scowled; they had been so close as well. The other Gryffindors, who had been hoping for at least one lesson where Snape didn't pick on them, sighed, whilst the Slytherins jeered and made rude gestures with their hands, which Snape once again conveniently didn't see.

However, over the next few weeks, the Gryffindor house points began to rise slowly, since Snape seemed to be begrudgingly following Dumbledore's orders. Meanwhile, Leanne was forced to tell the story about what had happened in the Gryffindor common room and in Dumbledore's office to Duncan, who had been extremely intrigued by the matter, and spent many days wondering what Dumbledore had meant when he said that Travers had needed Leanne somehow. He came up with nothing, though, and Leanne thought that she was nothing special, and could only assume that Dumbledore had been wrong, unlikely as it seemed.

Word also reached Leanne that there had been a commotion down in the kitchens; Wheezy the house elf had been found and ejected from Hogwarts by Dumbledore himself. The story remained relatively quiet, for only Dumbledore, Leanne, Frieda and Duncan knew what was happening.

But apart from that, life in Hogwarts was returning to as close as normal as it could get. Leanne no longer needed to keep worrying about when Travers would contact her, and she tried her best to removed him from her mind. The only small concern that remained was that Snape might not be as innocent as Dumbledore claimed, for the evidence seemed to point towards the Potion master trying to obtain the Philosopher's Stone for himself. Nevertheless, Leanne tried to forget about it, instead concentrating on her schoolwork, which was becoming increasingly harder.

They were working with more dangerous plants in Herbology (meaning that Leanne was receiving more and more scratches and bites), Professor McGonagall was expecting more of them and became annoyed when Leanne couldn't turn a pencil into a straw, and even History of Magic started to involve more dates and names, presumably in preparation for their exams, which were still months away, Leanne knew. Therefore, the fact that there was a Quidditch match approaching, between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, meant there was a welcome break from lessons and homework, which now seemed to be just a regular part of Leanne's life as eating and breathing.

Not everyone was happy about the upcoming match, however; one day in mid February, as the match drew closer, Leanne and Frieda heard Oliver Wood and the rest of the Gryffindor team returning to the common room after a few hours of practise, trailing mud everywhere. Leanne was about to ask Harry how it had gone, but froze when he heard Wood talking to Percy Weasley.

'…being refereed by Snape!' Wood was saying angrily. 'I mean, he's still bitter over the fact that we beat Slytherin…he's not going to be fair to us…he'll be giving Hufflepuff loads of penalties, you wait and see…'

Leanne was quick to relay this information to Frieda.

'He'll probably try and knock Harry off his broom again,' Frieda said darkly as they sat down on the armchairs.

'Yeah, probably,' Leanne said distractedly. 'I told Dumbledore about that, but he told me not to worry about it. Why do you suppose he did that, though – try and knock Harry off his broom? It can't have anything to do with the Philosopher's Stone, can it?'

'I doubt it,' Frieda said. 'It was probably just to try and make sure that Slytherin won the match.'

The match drew closer and Leanne could tell from Harry's anxious expression that he wasn't looking forward to the upcoming match. The other Gryffindors were also apprehensive about Snap refereeing their match, though, unlike Harry, they seemed more concerned about the Potions master being biased towards Hufflepuff rather than being worried about him trying to knock their Seeker off his broom.

The day of the Quidditch match finally arrived, and as usual, the entire school headed down to the Quidditch pitch to get seats. Leanne and Frieda met Duncan on the way, but once again, they had to split fairly quickly as he took seats in the Ravenclaw stands. Climbing as high as they could in the stands, Frieda took out her binoculars, ready to watch the action.

'Look, there's Snape!' Leanne said, pointing to the greasy-haired figure, standing in the spot in the middle of the pitch that was usually occupied by Madam Hooch. 'He doesn't look happy…but then again, when has he ever been happy before? Apart from when he's taking house points off Gryffindor?'

The two teams strode out of their changing rooms and met at the centre of the pitch; Oliver Wood and the Hufflepuff captain shook hands and suddenly they were off, zooming around the pitch on their brooms. Harry had resumed his usual position of gliding high above the action, searching for a sign of the Golden Snitch.

Leanne turned around as she heard a yelp of pain; somehow, Draco Malfoy and his cronies had managed to sneak into the Gryffindor stands and judging from the way Ron Weasley was rubbing his back, had painfully prodded him. She quickly turned her attention back to the match, however, as Snape had seemingly awarded Hufflepuff a penalty because one of the Weasley twins had accidentally hit a Bludger towards him, something that Lee Jordan, who was commentating again, was quick to point out, and it was only the intervention of Professor McGonagall that stopped his rant involving more obscene words.

'Master is disappointed with you,' said a familiar voice, and Leanne whipped around suddenly.

There, standing next to Leanne, was Wheezy the house elf.

'What the – ? What the hell are you doing here?' Leanne cried angrily. 'I thought Dumbledore had got rid of you!'

'Master sent Wheezy back because you are very important to his causes,' Wheezy said, as Leanne reached for her wand in what she hoped what a threatening manner; Frieda did the same, though she was torn between kicking Wheezy and watching the match, as Snape awarded Hufflepuff a penalty for no reason at all.

'Oh yeah, well you can tell your master that I want nothing to do with him,' Leanne said defiantly, 'and he'll be waiting a long time for me, because I'm not going searching for him. And as long as I stay at Hogwarts, he can't get me. You tell your master that.'

'Wheezy is sorry that things have to come to this,' the house elf said, and with a lightening fast move, swiped Leanne's wand from her hand and had disappeared behind the seats.

'Hey!' Leanne cried. 'Hey, give that back!'

She leapt up and raced after the house elf, who was significantly faster than Leanne, for he could weave through everyone's legs, whereas she had to jump over everyone. She caught sight of Wheezy whipping out of sight down some stairs, and Leanne followed; Frieda, she could tell, was only a few steps behind her.

Jumping down the stairs three at a time, Leanne emerged on the Ravenclaw stand and whirled around in time to see Wheezy weaving through the legs of Padma Patil. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Duncan emerged from the crowd, looking positively startled by Leanne and Frieda's sudden and unexpected appearance.

'Over there – it's Wheezy!' Leanne had time to call out to Duncan before she had raced ahead.

Wheezy bolted down another slight of stairs and finally came out on the Hogwart's lawn, which swept up towards the castle. Only a few metres behind him, she saw Wheezy running around the side of the Quidditch pitch, her wand still in his hand. There was an almighty cheer from the supporters in the pitch as Leanne ran on; it sounded as though one of the teams had won, even though the game had only lasted five minutes or so.

'Come back here, you stupid house elf!' Leanne screamed, which was unlikely to make Wheezy come back and return her wand to her.

Now that they were on open land, Leanne started to catch up to Wheezy, but just as she was a few steps behind him, he turned and Leanne, wrong-footed, stumbled, allowing Frieda and Duncan, who had joined them to see what the commotion was about, time to catch up.

'He's heading towards the forest,' Duncan observed, as they started running after the house elf again. Leann realised that he was right; Wheezy was making a beeline for the line of trees directly ahead of them. 'You can't go in there.'

'But he's got my wand!' Leanne protested. 'Someone should go back and tell Dumbledore…'

'No, you might need help,' Frieda said as they reached Hagrid's cabin, which stood on the edge of the forest. 'I've heard there are all sorts of nasty beasts in there…'

'Oh, brilliant,' Leanne muttered, starting to slow down slightly; out of fear for what lay within the Forbidden Forest, but also because her sides were aching and she was becoming tired. Wheezy, meanwhile, was showing no signs of slowing down and Leanne watched in dismay as he scurried into the darkened trees.

Leanne was about to run after him, but Duncan grabbed her by her arms and pulled her back, saying, 'Don't go after him! Can't you see what's going on – it's a trap!'

'Not much of a trap if we know it's a trap,' Leanne said grimly, wrenching her arm free and starting to run once more. 'You can either follow me, or go back and tell Dumbledore – your choice.'

Leanne didn't even need to look back; she knew that Frieda and Duncan were still following her. So what if it was a trap, so what is Wheezy was leading them right towards his master? They would be able to turn the tables, spring the trap on Travers…The only nagging thought that remained in her head as she stepped over a large tree root and entered the dark, tangled forest was that Dumbledore had specifically told Leanne not to go searching for Travers.

Not that searching for Travers was her main priority; she intended only to get her wand from Wheezy and then head back to the castle. Who knew if Travers was even waiting in the forest? Perhaps this was just Wheezy's way of revenge – stealing Leanne's wand and hiding it in the forest.

Indeed, there were no shortages of places to hide things in the forest. It was dark, owing to a thick canopy that prevented much of the sunlight reaching the ground, though underbrush and grassy knolls still managed to grow in the patches that sunlight managed to reach. Many trees were gnarled and disfigured, and Leanne had a funny feeling that they were moving too much without the aid of the wind.

'We're going to get in so much trouble if we get caught in here,' Leanne heard Frieda say from behind her, but she didn't sound worried; on the contrary, she sounded quite thrilled and excited that they were going on an adventure.

Duncan, however, sounded more cautious. 'Be careful, let's try and stick as close to the forest's edge as possible,' he muttered, and Leanne could tell that he must be looking around apprehensively.

'Go back if you want,' Leanne repeated, who knew that Duncan would rather meet Professor Snape in a dark corridor after hours that go wandering around a dark, creature-infested forest; at least the first one, unpleasant though it was, couldn't result in death or serious injury.

'We're not leaving you,' Duncan said firmly, though his voice wavered as there was the sound of a twig snapping.

Leanne looked around; there was no sign of Hogwarts anymore, and it seemed like the trees were pressing in closer. There was a distant sound that seemed like it came from an animal, and the three of them huddled closer together, peering through the dark trees as they went, searching for any sign of Wheezy.

'Maybe we _should _head back,' Leanne said after a few minutes, and noticing that the forest became thicker ahead. 'We can tell Dumbledore what happened – I'm sure he'll be able to get my wand back…'

'Yeah, good idea,' Duncan said, nodding his head quite vigorously, and seemed pleased when they turned around and started heading back the way they had come.

They had walked for about ten minutes, and when they realised that they should have reached the forest's edge by now, they stopped and looked around, knowing that they were most likely lost. Leanne looked frantically around for a familiar tree or rock, but they all looked the same, and matters weren't helped by the fact that an animal noise appeared to be getting closer and closer; Frieda and Duncan had already whipped out their wands, though Leanne, now wandless, felt utterly defenceless and she felt her heart rising as she trudged on through the trees.

'I should have listened to Dumbledore,' Leanne moaned, as she saw the sun sinking lower and lower in the sky; once night fell, they'd have no chance of getting out. 'I shouldn't have gone chasing after that stupid house elf…I'm sorry, you two…'

Leanne froze, staring ahead. Something had stepped from the bushes. For a moment, Leanne thought it was a man, then she thought it was a horse, and then it realised it was a mixture of the two. Possessing the upper body of a man and the lower body of a horse, the chestnut-coloured centaur stepped in front of them, a longbow and a quiverful of arrows slung over his shoulders. The breeze tugged at his long black hair as he eyed the three of them with suspicion.

'Erm…' Leanne said, unsure what to say to the thing. It didn't look friendly, what with the fact it was now gripping his longbow, but she could tell he wasn't hostile or they would probably all be dead by now.

'Who are you?' the centaur demanded.

'We…er…we were – ' Leanne tried to explain nervously, but there was the sound of hooves in the undergrowth and two more centaurs erupted from the bushes, one of which had a palomino body and long white hair, the other have a black body and black hair.

'Who are _they_, Magorian?' the black-bodied centaur asked the chestnut-coloured one after catching sight of Leanne, Frieda and Duncan, the latter of which was shaking all over.

'Strangers to the forest,' Magorian replied. Turning to the three of them, he said, 'Explain your business here.'

'We – there was this house elf,' Leanne explained quickly. 'It stole my wand and ran into the forest. We were chasing after it, and then we got lost and we don't know where we are…'

'A house elf stole your wand?' Magorian laughed. 'I don't think so. Just looking for a bit of adventure, that's what I think. You shouldn't have come in here. You can find your own way out.'

'Maybe she's telling the truth, Magorian,' the smaller centaur with the palomino body said, being the only not eying Leanne, Frieda and Duncan with immense suspicion. 'She does not seem to have a wand with her.'

'You are young, and have much to learn, Firenze,' Magorian snapped, 'as do these youngsters.' He swept his hands towards Leanne and her friends. 'They will learn from their own mistakes that wandering into the forest by themselves is not a very good idea. Therefore, we shall not help them find their way out. Come, Firenze. Come, Bane. We have no further need to be here.'

The three centaurs turned and galloped away, though the centaur called Firenze looked at them sympathetically before following Magorian into the bushes and vanishing. Leanne had half a mind to shout after them, but decided not to, remembering that they had been carrying longbows and arrows.

'Wonder why they were carrying arrows?' Duncan said, sounding quiet and nervous.

'Probably to protect themselves against any other nasty beasts that live in here,' Frieda said darkly, most unhelpfully and doing nothing to calm Duncan's panicky mood.

'Well, now what?' Duncan said in a high voice, as the shadows began getting larger as the sun continued its descent.

'Erm…well, we need to somehow alert people up at the castle that were in here,' Leanne decided, 'even though it'll probably mean that we all get detentions until we leave school. Could one of you two not shoot sparks from the end of your wands?'

Duncan pulled his wand up quickly and pointed it to the sky, but –

'_Expelliarmus!' _

Duncan's wand flew out of his hand and sailed into the bushes. Leanne whipped around, searching for the source of the spell; there was a figure in the bushes, a wand held high.

Frieda raised her own wand and opened her mouth to speak, but the figure in the bushes managed to get his spell out first.

'_Stupefy!' _

Frieda fell to the floor, unconscious as a red bolt of light hit her in the chest. Leanne looked at her startled, raising her own hand automatically, but there was no wand there. Duncan, meanwhile, had scrambled into the bushes and grabbed his wand, and was now holding it, his hands shaking, seemingly wondering what spell to use.

'No, get out of here, get Dumbledore!' Leanne cried, as the figure stepped from the bushes.

'_Stupefy!' _he said again, and this time, Duncan fell to the floor, unconscious.

Leanne looked back, her heart pounding, as Derrick Travers stepped calmly from the bushes. Brushing his long black hair from over his eyes, Leanne got a good look at his face, which are more mean-looking than it had seemed in the Gryffindor fire place. His eyes seemed grey and pale, though gleaming in triumph as he saw Frieda and Duncan lying unconscious on the floor. Something moved in between in legs, and looking down, Leanne saw the small form of Wheezy standing there, still holding Leanne's wand.

'It's about time we met face to face,' Travers said with a smile. 'We could do with a chat.'

He raised his wand; there was a flash of red light, and then blackness.


	15. Chapter 14: The Ring

– **Chapter Fourteen – **

The Ring 

**Leanne awoke, feeling dazed. **She looked around her and saw that she was in what looked like a cave. Water dripped down from the ceiling, and the place had a dark, underground feeling to it. A fire had been started a few metres in front of her, and as Leanne made to move, she realised that her entire body was bound with ropes that prevented her from moving, even though they didn't seem to be attached to anything.

'I'm glad you've awoken,' said a voice.

'You!' Leanne shouted angrily as Derrick Travers walked calmly into view; his face, looking much more malicious than ever before, was lit by the flickering flames of the fire. 'Where am I? Where are my friends?'

'We are in a cave, in the middle of the forest,' Travers replied, spreading his arms around. 'Very secluded – we won't be interrupted. As for your friends,' he shrugged, 'who knows? I left them in the forest where I stupefied you. Tied up, of course, so they won't be running for help any time soon. They might still be there or…they might have been attacked – some terrifying creatures live in this forest…I've even heard stories of giant spiders…'

Leanne gulped, fearing for the safety of her friends, but then, with a stab of hope, she realised that they still had their wands.

'Oh no,' said Travers with a grin, as if he had read her mind, 'I took their wand off them, just in case. Wheezy's looking after them for the time being. Such a help he is…'

'Why?' Leanne asked, struggling again her rope, but they weren't budging. 'Why did you have Wheezy lead you here? Why are _you _here? What do you want me for?'

'Perhaps you would like to hear my story, Leanne,' Travers said, leaning in closer. 'Perhaps you'd like to hear what all of this is in aid of. You may have burning questions. You have no doubt seen the memory that I gave you, seen what it contains. No doubt you are feeling angry…confused…probably hurt…but no matter, I will try my best to clear things up.'

'Dumbledore already told me,' Leanne spat, 'that you were a Death Eater. You betrayed my father and you lied to me! You said you were his friend! You said you wanted to be my friend!'

'Ah, it seems that Dumbledore is omnipotent as usual,' Travers smiled wryly. 'Always seems to know exactly what's going on around him. But, of course, I had counted without Severus Snape informing him of our secret meeting…

'But let me start at the beginning, Leanne,' Travers went on. 'Admittedly, I may have stretched the truth on numerous occasions over the past few months, but I did not lie about one thing; I was indeed your father's friend when we were at Hogwarts. And, like I also said, we occasionally stretched our friendship towards Severus Snape, though he rarely accepted it and was always bitter towards us. But after Hogwarts, I realised that I was very much alone in the world. I had a brother, but we were hardly close. Your father, meanwhile, had already grown close to a girl called Tessa Davies the year after he left Hogwarts, and the two of them grew extremely close.

'I was approached, like many other witches and wizards, by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, who was at large at that time, and offered me great power if I joined his loyal Death Eaters. I accepted, wanting a family of my own, but I was commanded to do extremely horrid things…things that I was hardly willing to do, not even for the untold power that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named promised me. You may have heard of the McKinnons – I murdered them. I was unwilling at first, but then stories reached me of what happened to the followers of the Dark Lord who were not loyal…so I killed them.'

Travers had paused now, his face white, and he leaned closer towards Leanne as he said, 'You are far too young to know what it feels like to kill someone, to be responsible for their deaths. Too young to know how it feels when you point a wand at someone and utter the Killing Curse. It does not feel nice, I can tell you…

'By this time, I had come to regret my decision to become one of the Dark Lord's followers, and as I was told to kill more people that he considered to be his enemies – some of which I had known from school – I often deliberately failed my missions on purpose, pretending that they had not been at home, or they had Disapparated before I could perform my spells. But there were many of the Dark Lord's followers who were willing to betray their fellow Death Eaters if it meant that they would be liked more by the Dark Lord himself. I foolishly told a Death Eater of what I was up to, and before I knew it, the information had reached He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. He did not kill me, which surprised me. Instead, he killed my wife, whom I had recently married to, and he killed my brother, Orsino. Both had been tortured to insanity before they were killed.

'I hated the Dark Lord more than anyone else in the world,' Travers said, gritting his teeth. 'I quickly left the Death Eaters and went into hiding. My own priority now was defeating the one person who had destroyed my life and my family. Why, you may ask, am I holding you here captive when I was your father's friend and when my one true enemy still remains at large – yes, as I am sure Dumbledore has informed you, the Dark Lord did not truly die when he attacked young Harry Potter ten years ago. He was defeated, a mere spirit, but he did not die, and over the past ten years, he has slowly been getting stronger. Recently, I believe that he has found new strength; the Dark Mark that all Death Eaters are given has become clearer, a sure sign that the Dark Lord is once again active…'

'You still haven't told me why I'm here,' Leanne pointed out nastily. 'You said it yourself – Voldemort – ' Travers flinched ' – is still out there, so why are you bothering with me?'

'The story from hereon in becomes more complicated, so I hope you can keep up,' Travers explained. 'The Dark Lord cannot be killed as easily as other wizards. The one thing he fears above all else is death, so it is predictable that he has ensured that he cannot die – or, at least, he is much harder to kill than other wizards. A Killing Curse, as exampled when his own spell reflected off Harry Potter and struck him, cannot kill him; it can defeat him for the moment, render his weakened for months, maybe even years on end, but it will not kill him. And only when the Dark Lord is dead will I have achieved my goal. To fully kill He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would be a fiendishly difficult task for even someone like Dumbledore, and even without the measures he has made to ensure his own 'immortality', he is protected by loyal Death Eaters, or at least, he will be once he has regained strength and called them to him…'

'I thought all the Death Eaters were rounded up and placed in Azkaban,' Leanne said.

'Many were, but not all,' Travers replied, pacing the length of the cave now. 'Death Eaters such as Antonin Dolohov, Rabastan and Rodolphus Lestrange and Igor Karkaroff – they were imprisoned, and some of them remain there, but others managed to avoid going to Azkaban, mainly by pretending they had been bewitched by the Dark Lord to doing his bidding – Death Eaters such as Avery, Macnair and Greyback remain at large, undoubtedly awaiting the day the Dark Lord returns to they can hasten to his side. And there was one Death Eater in particular who should have been sent to Azkaban, but didn't – Severus Snape. He was cleared by Dumbledore, who always seemed to trust Severus…'

'But Dumbledore said that Snape left the Death Eaters before Voldemort died, just like you,' Leanne said. 'How can you not trust him then?'

'Do you trust me?' Travers challenged. 'Exactly,' he declared when Leanne shook her head, 'so why should I trust Severus. How can I be sure that he is not still loyal to the Dark Lord? How can I be sure which side he is now on? As for me, my hatred for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named will always prevent me from rejoining the Death Eaters.'

'And yet you arranged to meet with Snape, didn't you?' Leanne pointed out. 'In that empty classroom.'

'Yes, I needed to discuss the Dark Mark with Severus,' Travers replied. 'As a fellow Death Eaters, he would undoubtedly have noticed how clear the Dark Mark had become of later.'

'He didn't seem to trust you very much…' Leanne said, stalling for time, unsure what Travers was going to do with her once he had finished his story.

'Why should he?' Travers retorted. 'We are two fellow ex-Death Eaters, or at least, he claims to be one – why should we trust each other? And besides, Severus has never held much love for me…was always bitter when I attempted to rescue him from James Potter and his little gang of Gryffindors…'

'You think he's after the Philosopher's Stone, don't you?' Leanne said.

'You are distracting me,' Travers said. 'We will arrive on the subject of the Philosopher's Stone in due time, but now, let be return to where I left off. I had just quit the Death Eaters. My family was decimated. My only goal in life now was killing the Dark Lord, a task, as I have already said, that is almost impossible. But it can be done.

'An item was crafted, long ago,' Travers explained, 'by the Dark Lord himself, in fact. It was called the Orb of the Serpent, and it was able to not only see through the minds of others, it could also be used to locate various magical items. I wish to obtain the Orb of the Serpent for matters that neither concern you, and nor am I willing to explain right now. Let me just say that there are some items that I need to procure. But, of course, anything made by the Dark Lord himself will not be easy to get at. There are no doubt powerful enchantments surrounding the Orb, perhaps even dark beasts – but the main protection that the Dark Lord gave it was where it was hidden.

'Hundreds of mile from here lies the village of Little Hangleton, where the Dark Lord's parents and grandparents lived,' Travers went on. 'It is here, beneath the ground, that he placed the Orb of the Serpent. However, I cannot, as you may have guessed, simply Apparate there and get the Orb; it is protected by spells that none can break, for he did not wish anyone else but himself and his most loyal followers to use the Orb. It is, in words, impenetrable to virtually all, but since there were a few that would occasionally need to use the Orb, a plan was devised amongst the Dark Lord and his followers, a long time before the Death Eaters had formed and long before he rose to power.

'Four other objects were made by the Dark Lord and given to four of his most loyal followers. Only when these four objects were placed before the Orb of the Serpent would the enchantments and spells be lifted and the Orb usable. Yes, it took me quite a while to learn about this, for only a select few knew about it, but it is now clear to me that to obtain the Orb of the Serpent, I must find these four items.'

'But I thought you only wanted the Orb to find some other items,' Leanne said, now confused. 'Wouldn't it just be easier to locate these other items instead of going through all this trouble to get the Orb of the Serpent?'

'Of course not,' Travers said, as if Leanne were an idiot. 'If I were to tell you that the items that I wish to find will help in the downfall of the Dark Lord, would you not think they would be much more heavily protected than these much lowlier objects required to allow entry to the Orb of the Serpent. No, the items that I ultimately wish to get – the ones that will help defeat the Dark Lord once and for all – are hidden beyond belief, and protected by spells that would normally make them unfindable. Yes, I am sure there are a few who may know where a few – but definitely not all – of these items reside, and I am sure I can use a few potions to coax the truth out of them, but where to start? How to approach the matter? And let us assume that their memories may even have been modified by the Dark Lord so the place that they think such an item is hidden could be completely wrong and might lead me into a trap. It is much more easier to use the Orb of the Serpent in finding these objects, and anyway, I have already got a good head start in locating the four items needed to reach the Orb.'

'You have?' Leanne asked, not sure whether she was happy that Travers was trying to defeat Lord Voldemort, or angry that she was being held her for reasons that still remained unknown to her.

'Yes, mainly because my father was one of the four loyal servants of the Dark Lord's that was entrusted with an item, a ring in fact,' Travers explained. 'His name was Hesper Travers and he was at school with the Dark Lord and one of his oldest – I won't say friends – one of his oldest acquaintances, since the Dark Lord never possessed any real friends. My father received a ring to take care of, but he died a number of years later, after I was born, and the ring passed out of all knowledge. Naturally, because of it, the Orb of the Serpent could not be reached with the ring. When I became a Death Eater and learned of the ring, I tracked it down. How I did so is irrelevant for now, but I kept it safe after realising what it was capable of.

'However, it was later stolen from me,' Travers said, and Leanne realised she knew where this was heading. 'It was stolen from me by your own father, Leanne.'

'But why?' Leanne asked, who had wanted to know the answer to this question for some time now.

'He did not seem to think it was safe in my hands,' Travers replied darkly. 'He seemed to think I would misuse it, but it depends on what his version of 'misuse' comprised of…But yes, Evan stole my ring and he kept it in his study, which was magically protected. With time, I could have gotten through the enchantments, but Evan would never have allowed him whilst he was still living in the house. I could have killed Evan – that would have been simple…killing him would get him out of the picture and get rid of the enchantments surrounding his study. But I did not, nor did I have any intention of doing so; your father was still my friend at heart and I could not bare to kill him. However, I needed that ring extremely badly, and to do so I needed Evan out of the picture…'

'So you told some Aurors that my father was a Death Eater, didn't you?' Leanne accused angrily.

'Does the truth hurt?' Travers asked with a smirk.

'I – what?' Leanne asked, confused.

'Yes, I called the Aurors,' Travers went on, as if he had not heard Leanne, 'and I told them where Evan lived. I made sure you, Tessa and Roger were out of the house before doing so – I didn't wish to see innocent victims arrested or them to see what was happening to Evan. However, things did not go as planned: Evan put up much more of a fight than I had imagined, and the Aurors were forced to kill him, as you probably saw in the pensieve.

'I should have gone back to the house then and found the ring,' Travers said, sounding quite sad now, 'but I did not. I was saddened to hear what had happened to Evan and I went into hiding, being extremely withdrawn. I was wrought with grief and despair about what I had done. I had not only killed a man that had once been my good friend, I had also destroyed a family. I did not go to retrieve the ring when I should have done, and instead, I was found and apprehended by Ministry officials shortly after, and imprisoned in Azkaban for several years.'

'You've obviously changed since then,' Leanne said coldly. 'You don't seem too troubled about kidnapping the daughter of the man who was once your friend. And you don't seem to mind leaving _my _friends in the middle of a dangerous forest, do you?'

'True, I have changed,' Travers replied softly, 'but Azkaban does that to you. If you go in and then later come out, you are never yourself again. Sometimes you are a completely different man. It hardens you, toughens you, makes you see what needs to be done to accomplish something…

'For many long years, I awaited within Azkaban. Shortly before I was captured by the Aurors, I heard rumours that the Dark Lord had been vanquished, something which kept me remotely happy whilst I was at Azkaban, something that kept me sane…However, I now believed that Evan's death had been in vain and that it could have been avoided. If I known that the Dark Lord would be (supposedly) defeated by a young boy, I would never have tried to find the Orb of the Serpent, which meant I would never have tried to get the ring back from the father, which in turn meant I would never have needed to inform the Aurors. But it doesn't really matter, I guess…your father is dead, nothing can change that, and the Dark Lord is not really dead and has instead been biding his time for ten years.

'I returned from Azkaban just over a year ago,' Travers continued, 'and a few months later, I first saw it – my Dark Mark was becoming clearer – and at that point, I realised the Dark Lord was not dead. And I realised that now was the time to act. I could find the Orb of the Serpent, and in turn locate the objects needed to killed the Dark Lord before he could return to his former power, and before his followers could return to his side. I could not have asked for a better chance. There are other Death Eaters, I am sure, who have noticed their Dark Marks becoming clearer over the past few months, but I doubt that any know where to look, and if I'm not mistaken, a few are too scared to return to the Dark Lord's side.

'So I returned to your house. I was easily able to Apparate inside for the enchantments had been lifted upon your father's death. Finding the ring was relatively easy – it had once been hidden by spells, but with them gone, it was easy to find. I took the ring, but already I could sense there was something awry. The power that the ring had once emanated had gone; there was no longer the stench of Dark Magic about it. It didn't take long to Apparate to Little Hangleton and see if my fears were correct. I placed the ring in its designated hole, expecting it to glow as it should. But it did not, and I now realised that before his death, your father must have drained the ring of its power somehow, perhaps knowing that I would one day get my hands on it.'

'Where is the power now?' Leanne asked.

'I searched your study,' Travers went on, as if Leanne hadn't spoken, 'trashing the place as I did so. It was then that I found your father's pensieve. I thought that your father might have placed his memory of the time when he drained the ring of its power within the pensieve, and I was right; I saw him extract the magical power and place it within a child, undoubtedly one of his own. I did my research; I knew that he fathered two children before his death, and judging from the appearance of the child that Evan placed the power into, he or she was no more than a few months old.'

All the colour drained from Leanne's face.

'Roger, your brother, I knew, was three years old at the time – far too old,' Travers said, 'so I knew it had to be his second child – you. I knew that you were vital in re-powering the ring. I needed you, but by that time, you had already gone off to Hogwarts, probably the only place in the world where I would be unable to get you. So I decided to use the tactical approach: I sent my house elf to Hogwarts to follow you, to obtain information about you, and when the time was right, I contacted you, pretending to want to get to know you better. You, foolishly, believed me,' and Leanne felt her face go red as Travers continued his story. 'I wanted to get you to trust me, to make you feel like I was your friend. But all along, I planned on giving you that memory that would turn your world upside down – the memory of your father's death. I hoped that you would be so angry with me that you would come and search me out, perhaps to enact your revenge – of course, I'd be much stronger so it wouldn't be hard to overpower you…but it didn't work as planned…you didn't come to seek me out…'

'Dumbledore told me that might be your plan,' Leanne spat angrily, 'and he told me not to walk into your trap.'

'It seems that Dumbledore is more irksome that I had first thought,' Travers muttered. 'After all, he ruined many months of planning. But no matter; I had a plan 'B'. I had Wheezy observing the school, and when everyone was out of the way, at the Quidditch match, he lured you out into the open and into the forest, which was the nearest I was able to get to Hogwarts. Finally, I have you and now I can return the ring that was once rightfully mine to its former power!'

'But why?' Leanne asked quickly, stalling for time again. 'Why would my father pass this – this power onto me?'

'Why wouldn't he?' Travers asked. 'Sure, in the long run, it might endanger you – as exampled by tonight – but it would always be the last place to look. After all, hiding a power within another human…animals, yes, but humans…it's not rarely done…Had I been forced to search for the ring's power, it would have taken my years, during which I wouldn't even think of looking for it inside his daughter. But, of course, his downfall was placing a memory of it inside the pensieve. Perhaps he was so proud of his ingenious idea that he just had to record it. Undoubtedly, had he lived for much longer, he would have removed the memory from the pensieve before other people could see it, but as it is, your father died before he could do this, which has resulted in the two of us standing here today.'

'But why couldn't he just put the ring's power in…in something like an old can and then throw it away – no one would ever find it then, would they?' Leanne said.

'That's true, but neither would your father,' Travers pointed out. 'See, he understood the power of the ring, and in the future, he may have liked to harness its power for himself. Which was why he needed to place the power into something that was always close to him, and yet hard to find at the same time – I guess you fit that description.'

'But why did you need to do all that to me? Befriend me and then show me that memory? Why did you drag me out here? If I'd have known that all of this was to do with helping to defeat Lord Voldemort, I would have been happy to pass on the power of the ring – however you do that,' Leanne tried to explained, but Travers held up a hand.

'Dumbledore would never have allowed it,' he said, 'and neither would any other sensible witch or wizard. I was, after all, a Death Eater and partially responsible for your father's death – why would anyone, apart from maybe Dumbledore himself, believe that I now wanted to kill the Dark Lord? And even if they did, they wouldn't trust me. I'm sure that Dumbledore is aware of my aims, but he would never allow a student of his to come near me, especially a student who's father was so-called betrayed by him. No, I instead had to use the tactical approach.'

'But we're supposed to be on the same side,' Leanne protested. 'We're all supposed to be fighting Voldemort together.'

'That is what you are led to believe,' Travers said. 'I want to kill He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, no matter what, but some people think there is a line that must not be crossed. For example, other people should not be killed in the process, the Unforgivable Curses should not be used…But who cares about all that? I believe that to kill the Dark Lord, we must go from point 'a', straight to point 'b', doing what you must to get there. Other people, Dumbledore included, ten to disagree, which is why I am afraid you are wrong. We are not on the same side.'

'But the Philosopher's Stone?' Leanne asked, remembering suddenly. 'Where does all of this fit in?'

'It is my assumption that the Dark Lord is plotting to try and claim the Philosopher's Stone for himself,' Travers replied.

'But you said Snape – '

'Have you not been listening to anything that I've been saying?' Travers cried, his voice rising. 'Severus was once a Death Eater, and is possibly still loyal to his old master. If he is after the Philosopher's Stone, and I believe he is, then it will not be for himself – it will be to give to the Dark Lord. As you know, the Philosopher's Stone grants immortality, and if the Dark Lord managed to obtain it, he would become much more powerful, and practically impossible to kill, even with the help of the Orb of the Serpent. Therefore, for the past few months, I have been trying to find out whether Severus really is after the Stone. I have found no evidence, which means I cannot yet act. Therefore, the only thing I can do is find the four items that will grant me the Orb of the Serpent, and hope against hope that neither Severus, nor anyone else gets their hands on the Stone.'

'But you only have one item – the ring,' Leanne pointed out. 'You need three other ones…'

'I know of the location of another one, which won't take long to procure, and I have heard rumours of where the third is hidden,' Travers said, muttering almost to himself now. 'Only the whereabouts of one, the goblets, remains completely unknown to me.' He turned back to Leanne as if seeing her for the first time and said, 'But you have distracted me long enough. We have spent too long chatting. This ring will not be re-powered on its own,' and he extracted from his pocket a rather mundane-looking silver ring.

Leanne didn't know whether it was supposed to be that boring-looking or dull, or whether it was because it had had all of its power removed, but before Leanne could dwell on the matter, Travers was striding towards her, the ring in his hand.

'What are you going to do?' Leanne asked nervously, struggling to escape, but the ropes held her tight, but was unable to do anything as Travers grabbed her hand and forcibly placed the ring on her index finger.

'This won't hurt…much,' Travers said with a nasty smile, removing his wand from his pocket.

'No, please! Help! Somebody help!' Leanne screamed frantically.

'There's no around to answer your calls,' Travers explained, 'but if you wish to attract the attention of giant spiders, be my guess. I shall be long gone by the time they get here.'

Leanne shut up instantly, and Travers started muttering something and pointing his wand at the ring on Leanne's finger. The ring started to glow and Leanne gasped as a sharp, shooting pain shot up her finger, slowly spreading to her hand. The pain continued as Travers went on muttering under his breath; finally, it became too much for her and she let out a scream, feeling like the insides of her body were burning up.

The red glowing from the ring intensified and started to fill up the entire cave, illuminating what must have been an exit, though outside, it was just as dark as it was in the cave. But then the light became too bright that she couldn't see anything; her screaming continued as the pain spread all around her body; Travers' muttering had risen, becoming a yell, though Leanne still could tell what he was saying.

Finally, he stopped and the pain and the red light vanished almost instantly. Travers lowered his wand and Leanne felt her knees give way; had she not been tied up, she would have collapsed to the ground in a heap. Travers bent down and extracted the ring from Leanne's finger, which was jerking and twitching involuntarily.

He stepped back, gazing down happily at the ring that he now held in his hands, which had an acrid stench about it now, though it didn't look any different than before; it looked mundane and quite ordinary.

As if Travers had read Leanne's mind, he said, 'It is powered now. I can feel the magical energy emanating from it. I am one step closer to finding the Orb of the Serpent. As for you, you have served your purpose,' he added, turning back to Leanne.

He raised his wand and the ropes binding Leanne fell apart, and she stood there, free at last, though utterly defenceless without a wand. Keeping an eye on her, Travers reached into his pocket and took out a small vial, which Leanne could see contained more memories – the strange white substance swirled around inside it.

'If you want to know the truth,' Travers said, holding out the vial towards Leanne, 'I suggest you place this memory in the pensieve and see what it contains.'

Leanne looked at the vial suspiciously and then snatched it away from Travers. She glanced at the cave entrance; it wasn't far away, but by the time she reached it, Travers would undoubtedly had caught up to her or thrown a spell at her.

Once again, as Travers looked into Leanne's eyes, he seemed able to read her mind, saying unpleasantly, 'Oh no, there'll be no running away and telling Dumbledore what you've seen tonight. I cannot kill you for reasons that you may one day discover, but I can certainly modify your memory so you won't remember a thing – '

Travers stopped talking, startled, for Leanne had made a run for the cave entrance, the vial grasped firmly in her hands. She had just reached the entrance when she heard Travers shout, _'Imperio!'_

Leanne stopped moving at once. It felt like her mind had been wiped of all thought. She was floating, dreaming, and although she hardly realised it, she was walking back into the cave towards Travers.

'Ah, the wonders of the Imperious Curse,' Travers said happily, as Leanne found herself unwillingly stopping a few metres in front of Travers, barely even aware of what was going on.

But then the dream stated lifted, and Leanne realised where she was again, as if someone had thrown a cup of water over her. She glanced in fear at Travers, and backed again.

'_Crucio!' _Travers snarled, raising his wand again.

Pain shot through Leanne's body, unlike any other pain she had experienced before; it was more severe than the pain when the ring had been on her finger – it was as if red hot knives were pressing into every inch of his skin, as if his bones were on fire. She staggered, unable to take any more, but when she thought she could take no more, the pain stopped and she fell to her knees. Breathing heavily, she looked up again at Travers, who looked happier than she had ever seen him.

'Now it's time to make sure you don't remember our little meeting,' Travers said, still grinning. He raised his wand, pointed it at Leanne and cried, _'Obliviate!'_

There was a flash of light that streaked towards Leanne, but it stopped suddenly, as if there was an invisible wall in front of her. Travers' smile instantly and when he looked up, looking beyond Leanne at something behind her, his face turned pale.

'Dumbledore,' he breathed, backing away.

Her mind dull, and aching with pain from the spell that Travers had used, Leanne managed to turn around, spotting to spot a tall, bearded figure standing in the entrance to the cave. Dumbledore's normally twinkling eyes were looking thunderous, and she could tell why Travers was backing away in fear now.

'_Crucio!' _Travers yelled again, but Dumbledore easily deflected the spell.

'It was very foolish what you did tonight, Derrick,' Dumbledore said softly, and her vision swimming, Leanne saw him advancing upon Travers.

'_Crucio!' _Travers said, but Leanne quickly realised the spell hadn't been aimed at Dumbledore; Leanne's body was wracked with pain once again, and writhing with agony on the floor, she vaguely heard Travers shout, 'Don't come any closer, Dumbledore, not unless you want to see this poor girl tortured to insanity before your very eyes.'

Leanne didn't hear Dumbledore's response. Her vision was clouded…she wanted the pain to stop…she wanted to die…as blackness took over her body, she thought death had finally arrived, and she welcomed it…


	16. Chapter 15: An Unexpected Visitor

– **Chapter Fifteen – **

An Unexpected Visitor 

'How are you, dear?' a concerned-sounding voice asked when Leanne next opened her eyes.

It was her mother, she quickly realised, after adjusting to the bright light above her. Sitting up, Leanne saw that she was in the hospital wing again; her mother was sitting down on one side of the bed, and her brother was sitting on the other side. Beyond them was Madam Pomfrey, but she bustled over when she saw that Leanne had awoken.

'Erm…I'm fine, I think,' Leanne replied uncertainly, as Madam Pomfrey checked her over and gave the all clear. 'What happened? One minute I was in the cave, and now…'

'That was three days ago, honey,' Leanne's mother said, still looking and sounding worried. 'You've been unconscious all this time. I was informed by the Headmaster soon after – he came to our house and brought me here via one of those Portkey things.'

'But Dumbledore – he was there…' Leanne remembered suddenly. 'And what happened to Travers?'

'Yes, about this man,' Leanne's mother said firmly, seemingly forgetting the traumatic experience Leanne had just been through and adopting quite an angry voice. 'I'm extremely disappointed that you failed to tell either myself or your brother about him. You should have known not to trust a strange man like that. Your Headmaster informed me about him, of course, just over a month ago – he said he had just had a late night discussion with you about this man. However, he also told me that I should refrain from doing anything, for he said it was unlikely that I would go searching for him. Clearly, he was wrong.'

Leanne couldn't be bothered explaining the whole thing about chasing after Wheezy, and instead sighed and said, 'So do you know everything that's happened then?'

'I know enough,' her mother replied, still sounding cross. 'The Headmaster filled me in about everything, about this man and what he did to your father, and that he was once Lord Vol- whatever his name's servant.'

'But there's more,' Leanne said, sitting up. 'Travers told me loads more, about some Orb and some items that would be needed to defeat Lord Voldemort,' and Madam Pomfrey, who had been within earshot, flinched at the sound of the name.

'Yes, we know,' Leanne's mother explained. 'Mr Dumbledore used this potion on some strange creature – '

'It was a house elf, mum,' Roger put in, who had remained quite silent up until now.

'Yes, a house elf,' Leanne's mother continued. 'Anyway, he used this potion and suddenly, the entire truth came out – about how he needed you to power this ring that your father stole from him – about this other items – everything that this house elf knew, Mr Dumbledore now knows, and he told everything to Roger and I.'

'Did you know about this ring – before all of this?' Leanne asked.

'No,' her mother replied, shaking her head. 'No, I did not. Your father, when he was alive, was a secretive man. We rarely talked about anything magical, and he barely used magic outside of his study. I wouldn't know much about anything that he kept in there – especially something as small as a ring. Fancy it being so powerful and under my nose all that time…'

'Did you know about Derrick Travers before?' Leanne pressed. 'Did my father ever speak of him?'

Leanne's mother sighed. 'Yes, I knew about him,' she admitted, and Leanne looked at her, intrigued. 'Your father and Derrick were close friends at one point, though they drifted apart after a while. They argued a lot after that and the last I heard of him was your father telling me that he had joined a cult called the Death Eaters. I never knew about his plan, or that he was the one who broke into our – '

'My friends,' Leanne remembered suddenly, cutting across her mother. 'Frieda and Duncan! What happened to them? Are they alright?'

'They're fine,' Leanne's mother said. 'Mr Dumbledore said he'd explain everything to you when he gets here, which,' she glanced at her watch, 'should be quite soon.'

'They left you these,' Roger said, gesturing to a box of Chocolate Frogs on the bedside table.

'I still don't know why you'd go wandering into the forest like that,' Leanne's mother was now muttering, shaking her head. 'You could have been killed, and not just by Derrick Travers – I heard other nasty things live in there…' She shuddered.

The door to the hospital wing opened suddenly, and in strode Dumbledore, who walked up to where Leanne was lying and smiled at her. He turned towards Leanne's mother and said, in the gentlest possible way, 'Would it be possible if Leanne and I discussed matters by ourselves for a few minutes? Leanne, of course, is at liberty to tell you whatever it is we talk about afterwards, but for the time being, I would like to talk about matters that have transpired during the school year.'

'Whatever you want to say to my daughter can be said in front of me,' Leanne's mother said coldly.

'Of course, but sometimes, unfortunately, a mother's concern can get in the way,' Dumbledore said kindly. 'It will take us no more than ten minutes, and then, of course, you are welcomed to rejoin your daughter…'

'It's okay, mum,' Leanne assured her, and she begrudgingly climbed to her feet, looking at Dumbledore suspiciously.

'And Roger, I believe you have a Charms class that you should be attending,' Dumbledore said, turning to him. 'Professor Flitwick will, I am sure, forgive you for missing the first half of his lesson, but I suggest that you hurry on down there now.'

Leanne's mother and Roger headed for the door.

'Professor McGonagall is free at the moment, I believe, Mrs Davies,' Dumbledore said to Leanne's mother. 'If you like to stop by her office and get something to eat or drink, I am sure she would be happy to oblige. Roger, if you would be so kind as to show your mother where Professor McGonagall's office is…thank you.'

The two left the hospital wing and Dumbledore turned back to Leanne, who had propped herself up against her pillows, eager to ask the Headmaster what had happened when he had confronted Travers.

Dumbledore, however, spoke first. 'I am sure what Derrick told you that night shocked and disturbed you,' he said quietly. 'I did not know the true intention of his plan to destroy Lord Voldemort, nor did I know why he needed you, and I am disappointed with the fact that you, Miss McFarlan and Mr Chambers entered the forest on your own.'

Dumbledore spoke gravely, but he did not sound mad, which made Leanne feel even worse; it would have been better if he had shouted at her angrily. She hung her head in shame.

'But…but really I had no choice,' Leanne protested, when she looked up a few seconds later. 'Wheezy the house elf had stolen my wand and he ran away into the forest…'

'Nonetheless, you could still have informed either myself or another teacher,' Dumbledore said softly. 'However, you are still alive, and you are not seriously injured, which is all that matters. Before we can continue, though, I will need your word that you will never again, without a teacher, venture into the forest, or leave the grounds whilst you are at Hogwarts. Do you agree to these terms?'

'Yes,' Leanne said quickly, vowing to never again go into the forest. 'But what about when I'm at home? And what about my mum – she's at home all the time. And my brother – he leaves Hogwarts to go to Hogsmeade occasionally, doesn't he?'

'Derrick Travers will not venture into Hogsmeade, of that I am certain,' Dumbledore said. 'There are far too many witches and wizards there for him to bother with. The problem that your house provides no security against wizards is currently being rectified. Ministry officials are, as we speak, placing magical enchantments upon the house so that Derrick will no longer be able to Apparate inside.

'Now that we have that out of the way,' Dumbledore continued, more brightly, 'I am sure you want to know what happened on that night three days ago, and how I came to know where you were.'

Leanne nodded eagerly.

'You were spotted heading into the forest, as it happens, by Professor Snape,' Dumbledore began, 'who hastened to inform me about your current activities. I entered the forest quickly, knowing that it was the perfect place for Derrick Travers to trap you. As I suspected, I was right. At first, I did not find anything, and I feared that I might be too late, but I ran into the centaur herd, who claimed they had seen you. As I was speaking to them, another centaur by the name of Firenze ran up and said that he had found two people tied up and unconscious.

'They turned out to be Frieda and Duncan, as you may know, and although I summoned extra help into the forest to assist Miss McFarlan and Mr Chambers, my main concern was you. I knew that the longer I spent looking for you, the more endangered your life would become. When Hagrid arrived to help Frieda and Duncan, I went off in search of you again. However, it was quite by accident that I found you; I spotted Wheezy lurking in the undergrowth and after disabling him, I quickly located the cave in which Derrick was keeping you captive.

'Derrick used the Cruciatus Curse on you to try and stop my advances, but I was able to bind him with magical ropes before attending to you. By that time, you had passed out because of the pain, and I feared for your safety. When I was finally sure that you would recover, I was horrified to learn that Wheezy had managed to escape from the spell I had cast on him and had freed Derrick. Though Derrick managed to escape through the trees, I was able to use a Freezing Charm on Wheezy before he could Apparate to safety. I quickly brought you and Wheezy back to the school, where I dispatched Madam Pomfrey to take care of you immediately.'

'And Wheezy?' Leanne asked.

'Knowing that you were unlikely to regain consciousness for a while, I used Veritaserum – a Truth Potion, in other words – to extract the truth from Wheezy,' Dumbledore explained. 'He told me all of his master's plans and secrets – how he wanted to obtain the Orb of the Serpent to defeat Lord Voldemort and how doing so requiring the help of four items, one of which needed to be placed on your finger to be re-powered. Yes, I learned much of Derrick's past that I did not previously know, and also some of Wheezy's own past, which I shall not trouble you with today.'

'Did Wheezy tell you where the other three items were located?' Leanne asked hopefully.

'He told me of the location of one – at Gringotts bank, though if I am not mistaken, that object was removed from Gringotts quite some time ago and is in safe hands,' Dumbledore said. 'However, I must clarify that. And besides, Derrick may not have told Wheezy everything – there may be things that Derrick knows, but Wheezy does not…'

'Where is Wheezy now?' Leanne asked.

'In my office,' Dumbledore replied. 'I have placed an Anti-Apparition spell on him to prevent him from escaping.'

'So Travers got away with the ring then?' Leanne asked.

'Yes,' Dumbledore replied, 'which in itself may not be a bad thing, considering it will be used to defeat Lord Voldemort. However, the fact that Derrick is also willing to do anything – such as kidnapping a girl – to reach his goals, means we shall never be on the same side.'

'Yeah, Travers told me that,' Leanne said, nodding. 'He also said he couldn't kill me for reasons that I will one day discover. What do you suppose that means?'

Dumbledore pondered for a second before saying, 'Perhaps, and bear in mind that this is a very preliminary assumption, that Derrick Travers may still yet need you in the future. Perhaps you still have a place in his plans. If this is the case, please do everything in your power not to do anything stupid in the future, and not to leave the school grounds whilst you are here.'

'I won't,' Leanne promised. She paused for a second before adding, 'So you have no idea where Travers is at the moment?'

'None,' Dumbledore admitted, 'though there are Aurors and Ministry officials searching for him. They will probably not find him. I probed Wheezy for some answers, but he has none. Perhaps Derrick does not have a permanent home…'

'Erm…professor, there are a couple of questions that I would like to ask,' Leanne said tentatively, 'about what Travers told me that night.'

'Ask away.'

'Well, firstly, I wanted to know about these items that he is looking for,' Leanne said. 'Not the ones that permit you access to the Orb of the Serpent, but the ones that he thinks that will defeat Voldemort. Will they really defeat him? Do you know where they are?'

'Your mother will undoubtedly wish to return soon, and there is no time to tell that story today, since there is someone that I wish you to meet,' Dumbledore replied, 'but yes, I do believe that they will help to defeat Lord Voldemort. As for how, I am not entirely sure for the time being, and I only have basic assumptions. As for their whereabouts, I have no idea. Perhaps only Lord Voldemort himself knows…'

'And I also wanted to talk about the Philosopher's Stone,' Leanne said. 'Travers said he suspected Professor Snape of stealing it to Voldemort…'

'As I have said before,' Dumbledore said, sounding slightly impatient now, 'Professor Snape, though once the servant of Lord Voldemort, is now no more a Death Eater than you or I. It may be true that Voldemort may have taken an interest in the Philosopher's Stone, but it is not with the help of Severus Snape. Derrick merely distrusts him because he was once a Death Eater and because they never saw eye to eye when they were at school. After all, it was Severus who informed me that you were heading into the forest. If he hadn't told me immediately, I am sure that your friends will have perished in the forest, and you may have been seriously injured.'

'He probably only told you so we'd get into trouble,' Leanne muttered, before she could help herself.

'It was also Professor Snape who informed me of your communications with Derrick, if you remember, which in turn, allowed me to eavesdrop on your conversation and learn of the lies he was telling you,' Dumbledore reminded her sharply.

'Why had he been listening in the first place?' Leanne growled, slightly annoyed.

'Because Severus had recently discovered that you knew about the Philosopher's Stone,' Dumbledore went on. 'Admittedly, using Legilimency – that is, the reading of one's mind – on students is not generally accepted at Hogwarts, but in this instance, it worked to both of our advantages. Because Severus now knew about your knowledge of the Philosopher's Stone, he kept a careful eye on you during his Potions lesson, which resulted in him overhearing what you were saying to Miss McFarlan.'

Leanne suddenly remembered the instance when she and Frieda had been talking about the Philosopher's Stone in the Great Hall before Christmas; Snape had given Leanne a sharp, piercing look and then he had looked away, startled. That was probably when he had read her mind, she realised suddenly, and suddenly felt quite scared; she did not like the idea that other wizards, least of all Snape, were able to delve into her mind.

'One more thing,' Leanne said, remembering suddenly. 'Travers gave me a vial with a memory inside it. Do you know what has happened to it? What's inside it?'

Dumbledore sighed; apparently, it seemed as though he did not want the conversation to head in this direction.

'That memory,' he said, almost sadly, 'contains a memory that I would not like you to see. Perhaps when you are older, I shall permit you to see what it contains. For the time being, however, it is being locked in my office and I hope that you will forget about it.

'Oh,' he said, changing the subject almost instantly, 'I believe this is yours.'

He produced a wand from his pocket and handed it to Leanne, who took it gratefully.

'I found Wheezy guarding three wands when I spotted him. This one, of course, is yours,' Dumbledore said. 'Both Miss McFarlan and Mr Chambers have received their wands. They awoke shortly after they were brought back here and have been visiting you quite regularly since then. They will be extremely happy to know that you have awoken. Surprisingly, the story has remained relatively low-key for Hogwarts standards. Miss McFarlan and Mr Chambers have admirably managed to avoid spreading the story around, though something like this rarely remains quiet for long. If you wish nobody else to find out what happened in the forest, I suggest you think up of a story. I am sure Roger will remain quiet if you ask him.'

Dumbledore glanced at his watch. 'However, your mother will be returning soon, and there is someone that wishes to see you,' he said, heading over to the door of the hospital wing and opening it.

Leanne was just wondering who would want to see her when an old man, tall, thin and with sharp facial features strode into the hospital wing, his cloak billowing behind him. Leanne had never seen this man before in her life and watched him with trepidation as he and Dumbledore walked back to where Leanne was sitting up in bed.

'Leanne, this is Kevin Yaxley,' Dumbledore said pleasantly, indicating to the man, who nodded at Leanne. 'He once knew Derrick Travers and your father, and he came as soon as he found out from the Ministry what had happened in the forest.'

'Oh…hello,' Leanne said awkwardly to the man, who looked as though he was in his seventies.

'I was at Hogwarts when Derrick and Evan were here,' Yaxley said. 'I knew them well and we sometimes spoke in the common room, but we were never that close.'

'How can you have been in my father's year?' Leanne asked, noticing the man's age. 'You look like your about four decades older than he would be if he were still alive.'

'Kevin Yaxley is a Metamorphmagus,' Dumbledore put in, 'which means he can change his appearance at will. Kindly demonstrate to Leanne, will you, Kevin?'

Leanne blinked; Kevin Yaxley was no longer an old man, but a much younger one, with a face full of scars and a very ragged appearance. As Leanne instinctively recoiled, Yaxley chuckled.

'This is my real appearance,' he explained, 'but I didn't want to show you because I knew it would alarm you.'

'What happened to you?' Leanne asked, now more curious than horrified.

'I will get there in time,' Yaxley said kindly. 'Where was I? Oh yes, I was talking about my time at school with Derrick and your father. When we left school, however, my brother, Herman, became very close to Derrick, and when they were both asked to join the Death Eaters, they decided to try it out. They were foolish and naïve at that time, that is the only excuse I can try and make for them. I, too, was invited by the Death Eaters to join their ranks; I declined, and spent a good few years running from them, for they did not liked to be turned down. They expected me to join them, since my brother had done so, and my father had been a 'friend' of You-Know-You, and they thought my skills as a Metamorphmagus would come in handy. Understandably, they were very angry when I refused to join them. I was forced to lose all contact with my brother.

'The two of them did things that I never thought they were capable of doing. Derrick murdered the McKinnons, whilst Yaxley helped murder Gideon and Fabian Prewett, two brothers. Inexcusable crimes. But at least Derrick began to show remorse for what he had done,' Yaxley went on. 'He started to disobey You-Know-Who and made deliberate mistakes so he wouldn't have to kill any more people. However, his downfall was that he confided in Herman about what his plan was. Herman, eager to please his master, instantly told You-Know-Who about Derrick's plan, and it seems you know what happened after that: Derrick's family was killed, and he devoted his life to killing You-Know-Who.

'I came here as soon as I heard Derrick Travers had tried to infiltrate the school from the Ministry, and of course, Dumbledore told me all the knowledge that he gleamed from the house elf, Wheezy, including his plan to obtain the Orb of the Serpent. Did Derrick say anything about where he might be going? Did he say anything about the other three items that he has yet to procure – did he say if he had an leads on them?'

'No,' Leanne replied. 'Well, he didn't say where he was heading next, but he told me that he knew the location of one item – Gringotts – and a rumour concerning a third item…'

'The item in question,' Dumbledore interrupted, 'was removed from Gringotts many years ago, as I am sure Derrick will soon discover. It is, I believe, in safe hands for the time being. I do not know the location of the other two items, though I am sure you do.' He smiled pleasantly as he turned towards Kevin Yaxley.

'I know of one item, mainly because it was given to my father by You-Know-Who himself. Yes,' he said, as Leanne opened her mouth in shock, 'my father was a friend of his at school, as was Derrick Travers' father, Hesper. Hesper received a ring, whilst my father, Terence, received a skull.'

'A skull?' Leanne echoed in shock.

'Yes, the skull of a Muggle that my father had recently killed,' Yaxley went on. 'Naturally, when I was born, I knew of the skull, but did not know what it was for. He just told me that it was a present from a friend and together with three other items, they would unlock something 'wondrous' as he put it. Only now, hearing of Derrick's story, do I realise what the skull is. It is almost undoubtedly one of the four items and it is only a matter of time before Derrick comes to my house to try and find it.'

'But he might be there right now!' Leanne cried.

'Oh no, I brought it with me today,' Yaxley said with a smile, and from a pocket extracted a real human skull, decayed somewhat. 'I needed to know for sure whether it is indeed one of the four items. Smell the skull – it has dark magical energies pouring from it. Does it smell the same as the ring that Derrick had with him?'

Leanne leant forward and, begrudgingly, smelled the skull. It had the same acrid stench that the ring had had once Travers had powered it up again.

'It's the same smell,' Leanne verified.

'Then it must be hidden,' Yaxley said urgently, turning back towards Dumbledore. 'It must be hidden somewhere safe before Derrick comes searching for it. Perhaps somewhere here in the school, Albus…'

'Absolutely not,' Dumbledore said firmly. 'I will not have such a powerful Dark object here in the school.'

'But the closer it is to you, the harder it will be for Derrick to find,' Yaxley persisted. 'Once he finds out that it is not where it is rumoured to be – my house – he will suspect that it will be close to you. He will be very unwilling to try and steal it from under your very nose…'

'Why don't you just give the skull to Travers?' Leanne enquired. 'After all, if he needs them to defeat Voldemort – ' Yaxley flinched ' – then why don't we just give them to him?'

'As I have previously stated,' Dumbledore replied, 'Derrick is willing to reach his goals through any means necessary. To fully reach the Orb of the Serpent, the four items are needed, but other things are required to reach the Orb, such as the blood of innocents. I cannot give the skull to Derrick, knowing that he will hurt, and probably kill, other people to procure the Orb. No doubt other payments will be needed – we are talking about Lord Voldemort, after all, and he would have tried to make this chamber as impenetrable as possible to people other than himself and his most trusted of followers.' He turned back to Yaxley and said, 'I will hide the skull. It will not be placed in the school, but somewhere nearby where I will be able to keep and eye on it.'

'Where?' Yaxley and Leanne asked together.

'Telling either of you would be unwise,' Dumbledore said. 'He could easily use Legilimency or Veritaserum on you to obtain the truth. It is better is the skull's whereabouts remains with me. If you would kindly hand it over, I will make sure it is hidden before the day is over…'

Yaxley handed the skull to Dumbledore, who took out his wand and waved it; the skull vanished. He turned, smiling, back to Yaxley and continued, 'Derrick will eventually come to your house, looking for the skull. Would you like me to place a Fidelius Charm on your house – make it so he can never find it. I can be your Secret-Keeper if you so wish.'

'No, that's quite alright, Dumbledore,' Yaxley said, looking grim. 'I am sure Derrick and I will have a lot of catching up to do should he ever appear at my front door…'

'Very well,' Dumbledore said, 'but I suggest you exercise extreme caution should he ever appear.'

'I will do. Goodbye, Leanne. Goodbye, Dumbledore,' Yaxley said, as he headed for the door.

'Wait!' Leanne cried. 'I wanted to ask you about your brother. What happened to him? Is he still a Death Eater? And what happened to your father?'

Yaxley stopped and turned back to look at Leanne. 'My brother is still a Death Eater,' he sighed, 'but he is currently serving life in Azkaban, the wizarding prison. He was convicted of killing the Prewetts shortly after your father was killed. I have not visited him in seven years. I sincerely hope that he is never let out. As for my father, he is dead. He may have been a follower of You-Know-Who, but he loved his children. When Herman came looking for me, angry that I had not joined the Death Eaters like he, my father, Terence, protected me and prevented him from killing me. In the process, however, my father himself was killed…'

Yaxley said no more and quickly left the room. For a few moments, there was silence as Dumbledore looked serenely out of the window, until Leanne decided to break it.

'Does anyone know where the fourth item is?' she asked curiously. 'It's the only one which no one seems to have a clue where it is.'

'The fourth item certainly is a mystery, as is what it is,' Dumbledore replied. 'However, this is a good thing; Derrick does not know what the item is, nor does he know where it is hidden. He could spend many months – years perhaps – searching for the fourth item, during which, hopefully, he will have been apprehended by the Ministry.'

The door to the hospital wing burst open again and Leanne saw her mother rushing into the room, positioning herself between Dumbledore and Leanne and looking at the Headmaster with suspicion.

'Dear, are you okay?' she asked quickly, looking at Leanne in concern. 'What did he say to you?'

'I shall give you both some private time,' Dumbledore said, moving across the room. As he reached the door, however, he turned back and said, 'Oh, and I'm sure you'll be glad to hear that Gryffindor won the last Quidditch match – quite extraordinary – Harry caught the Golden Snitch in about five minutes – a record, if I'm not mistaken…'

With one last courteous nod towards Leanne, Dumbledore left the hospital wing, his cloak swishing behind him.


	17. Chapter 16: The Culprit Unmasked

– **Chapter Sixteen – **

The Culprit Unmasked 

**It seemed that Hogwarts had realised that Leanne had had a fast-paced, adventure-packed six months, and was now allowing her to pass the remainder of the school year without any trouble. **Leanne had not told her mother everything that she and Dumbledore had spoken about, fearing she would worried incessantly, but she had told Frieda and Duncan, who were both delighted that Leanne had made a full recovery. The first week or so after their exciting adventure was filled with Frieda and Duncan asking Leanne what had happened in the forest with Travers, and Leanne telling them everything that she could remember.

Other students had their own questions as to why Leanne had spent three days in the hospital wing, and she hastily made up an excuse that something had attacked her in the forest. At first, people were wowed at what had happened (including Fred and George Weasley, who weren't novices when it came to exploring the Forbidden Forest), but luckily, the story died down extremely quickly as March appeared, and Hermione Granger got it into everyone's heads that they should be revising for their exams, even though they were months away.

The teachers seemed to know what had happened, and now seemed to look at Leanne different, apart from Snape, of course, who continued to look at Leanne as if she were a pest that needed to be exterminated. Leanne felt that she should thank Snape for what he had done, but seconds after entering her first Potions lesson after leaving the hospital wing and having five house points taken from Gryffindor for apparently trailing mud into the dungeons, she decided against it.

Her mother had kept in regular touch since late February, and understandably, after letters of concern were still arriving in early April, Leanne began to get annoyed, and started feeding such letters to Silverstone. In fact, Leanne was quite surprised that her mother was still allowing her to spend time at Hogwarts after her life-threatening experience, but Leanne had a distinct feeling that Dumbledore had had a quiet word with Leanne's mother, probably explaining to her that Hogwarts was the safest place for her to be at this time.

However, since their discussion in the hospital wing, Dumbledore had not spoken to Leanne herself, and apart from fleeting glimpses at meal times, she had barely seen him either. She had wanted to ask him whether the Ministry had managed to capture Travers, but the increasing amount of homework the teachers were setting them in preparation for their exams was preventing Leanne from visiting the Headmaster, so she had recently subscribed to the _Daily Prophet_, hoping to see the headline that Derrick Travers had been caught and imprisoned. So far, however, Leanne had had no such luck, which meant that Travers was still at large.

'I can't believe it,' Leanne would often hear Hermione squeak as the exams drew nearer. 'It's May already and haven't revised nearly as much as I had hoped…I'd better make a revision timetable. I can make you two one as well,' she added to Harry and Ron, who didn't look remarkably keen about the idea and shifted away quickly.

Indeed, the teachers were showing Hermione's attitude towards revision, stating that they should be spending a few hours every night going over their subjects. Leanne, however, found this routine irritating as summer was around the corner and she frequently found herself in the Gryffindor common room, reading over her notes, as the days got increasingly warmer and more enjoyable.

'I'm going to fail my exams!' Frieda wailed one day in May as she, Leanne and Duncan sat in the library, revising. She closed _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration _with so more vigour and frustration that Madam Pince glared over at them, probably trying to see if the desecration of any of her beloved books was taking place.

Leanne, who had been reading through _Magical Drafts and Potions_, thinking that their Potions exams would probably be the hardest because of Snape's habit of giving them potions to brew that fifth years would have had trouble doing, looked up and said glumly, 'Yeah, me too. I can just imagine the glee on Snape's face if I get zero marks on my exam.'

'Come on, you can't think like that,' Duncan said. 'Just think positively and you'll get good marks.'

'I somehow doubt it,' Leanne muttered, and shut up quickly, for Madam Pince had decided to see what they were doing.

However, sometime in May, their fear of failing their exams vanished for a while, as Leanne and Frieda walked down to breakfast and noticed that the hour glass that contained the amount of house points that Gryffindor had was much emptier than usual. Leanne did a double take; it seemed impossible. Judging from the level it was now at, it seemed as if over a hundred house points had simply vanished overnight.

'How on earth…?' Leanne asked no one in particular, knowing that not even Snape could take away that many house points.

But then the rumours reached her ears.

'I heard it was Harry Potter and his friends,' a second-year girl was saying at breakfast to a small crowd. 'They were caught wandering the corridors after dark. McGonagall took a hundred and fifty house points from them. We'll never beat Slytherin now…'

The Slytherins couldn't have been happier. Glancing over at their table, Leanne could tell that they had already noticed that Gryffindor were last place; they were whooping and cheering and clapping Harry, who was keeping as low on his seat as he possibly could. Even Snape seemed in a happier mood, though it wasn't a good thing; he swept around the dungeons, smiling unpleasantly and saying things like, 'I doubt Gryffindor will be winning the House Cup this year', and, 'Dear me Mr Finnigan, what an atrocious Muffling Draught. I'd improve it if I were you before you lose a house point or two – and I don't think Gryffindor can afford to lose any house points, lest they enter minus numbers!'

This not only resulted in several people glaring at Snape, but also at Harry, Hermione and Neville, who had been responsible for the whole fiasco. All three of them looked as though they'd rather jump into their cauldrons and vanish. Certainly, they stayed as quiet as they could during classes and avoided the corridors as best they could, for they received numerous insults and stares from Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, but cheers from the delighted Slytherins.

Luckily for the three of them, however, the exams were a mere week away now, and many people stopped whispering snidely behind their backs (but loud enough for them to hear), and instead knuckled down on revision. Fifth-year students, such as Percy Weasley, were sitting important exams called O.W.L.s ('Ordinary Wizarding Levels,' Percy had explained before irritably telling them to go away, his books opened out in front of him), which were needed to be passed to continue studying them. Therefore, any room that had a fifth year student in it was deathly silent as they revised endlessly; Leanne was shouted at by Percy for breathing too loudly in the common room.

The exams started on the first day of June. They received their timetables as they ate a hurried a nervous breakfast in the Great Hall, and Leanne couldn't have been unhappier to learn that Potions was their first exam, which took place in the dungeons. Leanne could tell from Snape's gleeful smile that he had set them a most difficult task to do, and her suspicions were correct as he informed them that they were to concoct a Forgetfulness Potion before the exam was up. The fumes rising from the potion made Leanne forget whether she had already added Jobberknoll feather, and although she knew this meant she was doing the potion correctly, it was annoying because she couldn't remember what ingredients she still needed to add.

The Charms exams consisted of making a pineapple tap-dance across Professor Flitwick's table, though Leanne flicked her wand too much, and her pineapple whacked Professor Flitwick in the face, giving him a nasty nosebleed. The Astronomy exam included naming Jupiter's moons, whilst Professor Sprout gave them the task of planting Fanged Geraniums without gloves (points were taken away for every scratch or bite that the students received from the vicious plants).

Trudging back up to the castle after the Herbology exam, and sporting many cuts and scratches that would surely have resulted in her getting a very low score indeed, Leanne was annoyed to learn that they also had many written exams to do, which took place in a stifling classroom. They were each given special quills that had been bewitched with Anti-Cheating spells and had to answer many magical theory questions.

The Transfiguration exam turned out to be quite a difficult one as well, and Leanne emerged from it, fearing that the mouse they were supposed to be turning into a snuff-box still resembled a mouse. Their last exam was History of Magic, another exam Leanne had no hope for; she spent too much time dozing in Professor Binns' lesson to ever achieve a decent mark and once the exam was over (Leanne having answered less than half of the questions on the paper), she cheered with Frieda and they found Duncan before heading down into the grounds to enjoy the sun.

It was such a relief knowing that they had no homework and no more exams that when they returned to the Gryffindor common room that evening, Leanne and Frieda didn't stay up late and went to bed early. Harry, Ron and Hermione were still up, and sitting together in a corner, whispering suspiciously. The next day, Leanne found out why.

'You won't believe what happened last night!' everyone was saying in hushed whispers the next morning. 'Professor Quirrell tried to steal a Philosopher's Stone last night. It was hidden in the school. But Harry Potter and his friends managed to stop him!'

Leanne thought she had misheard, the statement was that absurd, but when she looked over at the staff table, she saw that Quirrell was nowhere to be seen. Dumbledore, too, was absent. Somehow, the story spread like wildfire. Leanne was still certain it was untrue, though as the day went on, and she saw no sign of Quirrell, she began to wonder if there was any truth in the story. She still couldn't imagine Quirrell attempting to steal the Philosopher's Stone, though.

Hermione and Ron were mobbed by students, eager to know the truth, but they managed to evade their questions and hurried up the hospital wing, where it was reported that Harry was lying unconscious. Professor McGonagall was also bombarded with questions as she walked down the corridor, and poor Professor Flitwick was nearly crushed as dozens of students advanced upon him, wanting to know the truth. Nobody dared to ask Snape, who swished around the commotion silently, the expression on his face unfathomable.

'I don't understand it,' Leanne muttered to herself the next day, as the story continued to spread, though here and there, parts seemed to be getting a bit exaggerated ('I heard Harry fought off a dragon without his wand!' exclaimed Justin Finch-Fletchley).

'Understand what?' Duncan asked, as they made their way down to the lake again.

'I always thought it was Snape that was after the Stone,' Leanne replied. 'I mean, nobody in their right mind would have suspected Quirrell. I wonder why he did it. Just for the immortality I suppose. Well, it didn't work, did he? He's dead now…'

'But when you think about it, it makes sense now,' Frieda said suddenly. 'Remember that discussion that Snape had with Quirrell. It sounded like Snape was confronting Quirrell because he had become suspicious of Snape. But we now know that it must have been because Snape knew somehow that Quirrell was after the Stone…'

Leanne couldn't bare all the speculation anymore. The next day, after not seeing a single sign of Dumbledore, she went to the gargoyle that she knew led to his office, and said, 'Sherbet lemon.' The gargoyle leapt aside and she rode the moving spiral staircase up to where his door stood. She knocked loudly on the door.

'Enter,' said Dumbledore from within his office.

Leanne entered and saw a small scene before her eyes. Two other men besides Dumbledore himself were standing in the Headmaster's office. One of them was Kevin Yaxley, who seemed more tired than when Leanne had first seen him, and had the appearance of a young man, though without the scars on his face. Leanne had never seen the second man before, who looked quite portly and was wearing a pinstriped suit and a lime green bowler hat. Completing the picture was Fawkes the phoenix, who was surveying the scene from his perch.

'Ah, Leanne,' Dumbledore said, looking mildly surprised as she entered the room. 'I didn't expect to see you here, but since you are, this is Mr Fudge, the Minister for Magic.' He gestured towards the portly little man, who was looking quite careworn.

'Pleased to meet you,' Leanne said politely, shaking hands with Fudge, who then looked at Dumbledore questioningly, as if he had invited Leanne to his office.

'No doubt you have heard rumours of recent goings-on at Hogwarts,' Dumbledore said to Leanne, who nodded mutely. 'Mr Fudge came to visit me for the precisely the same reason, as did Kevin. Let me tell you that most of them are true. Professor Quirrell did indeed intend to steal the Philosopher's Stone, and he was indeed stopped by young Harry Potter and his friends. I myself managed to stop Quirrell from attacking Harry. However, one thing was missing from the rumours: the fact that Professor Quirrell was being possessed by Lord Voldemort.'

Leanne gasped, as Fudge and Yaxley, who had apparently already heard the story, flinched at the sound of the name.

'It is no wonder that Derrick Travers' Dark Mark has been growing clearer recently,' Dumbledore went on, 'for Voldemort has become powerful enough to possess another human. It is with deepest sadness that I admit that I did not know of this, even when it was right under my nose. As wise and as intelligent as I am, I failed to notice that Lord Voldemort had managed to infiltrate my school…'

'Come now, Dumbledore, you don't seriously believe that You-Know-Who has returned, do you?' Fudge put in, as the people in the portraits on the wall listened intently to what was being said.

'Of course I do, Cornelius. I admit that he is extremely weak and barely alive, but as we have seen this last year, when he possesses someone, he can be very dangerous indeed,' Dumbledore said. 'I did not suspect Professor Quirrell, though I was not without my suspicions. I began to realise that something was amiss when Leanne here informed me of a conversation between Severus Snape and Professor Quirrell, but never would I have imagined that Quirrell was under the control of Lord Voldemort. The students do not know of this, and will need to be informed, Cornelius.'

'Preposterous, Dumbledore!' Fudge cried out. 'Tell the entire school that You-Know-You has returned? There'll be an uproar! I forbid it, Dumbledore, at least until we have more evidence.'

Dumbledore looked at him, and Fudge shrunk back slightly, but neither man said anything.

'But what about when Snape – ah, _Professor _Snape, tried to knock Harry off his broom?' Leanne asked.

'As I believe – and even I do not have the full details – it was Professor Quirrell who was trying to knock Harry off his broom,' Dumbledore said, and before Leanne could protest about Snape muttering something under his breath, he went on quickly, 'It is my knowledge that Professor Snape was uttering a counter-curse. Without the help of Severus, Harry may have been seriously injured, or worse.

'The Philosopher's Stone, meanwhile, has been destroyed,' Dumbledore went on. 'You may have noticed that I have been absent over the past two days. I have speaking with Nicholas Flamel, the creator of the Philosopher's Stone, and we have both decided that it is for the best that the Stone is destroyed. Both Nicholas and his wife, Perenelle, will eventually die, of course.'

Leanne looked over at Yaxley, who was hovering quietly in the background. Dumbledore, who caught her gaze, said, 'Kevin here arrived to tell me important information. He tells me that last night, Derrick Travers visited him at his house.'

Leanne looked sharply at Yaxley.

'At first, he arrived and pretended as if he wanted to catch up on things,' Yaxley explained, 'but once I told him I knew what he wanted, he got straight to the point. He asked me for the goblet, and when I said it had been moved, he said he was going to hurt me. Luckily, I had secretly informed the Ministry,' he nodded towards Fudge, 'about his presence and they arrived before he could do anything. He escaped, however, before an Anti-Apparition spell could be placed on him.'

'Yes…well…' Fudge said slowly, looking at his feet. 'These things happen…he'll be caught soon, I assure you…'

'Wait,' Leanne said, remembering something. 'You said that you had placed an Anti-Apparition spell so that Wheezy wouldn't be able to get out of your office. What happened to him?'

'I could not have kept him here forever,' Dumbledore sighed. 'I was forced to let him go, and he will be back with his master by now. The only thing that I could do was modify his memory somewhat so that he cannot remember that we kept him imprisoned or that we used Veritaserum on him to find out the truth. Instead, he will remember being in the forest, before being captured by myself and then later escaping.'

'Yes, well, I'm not too happy about everything that's been going on at Hogwarts this year,' Fudge grumbled softly. 'Extra caution should be taken next year, Dumbledore, and I suggest hiring a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher who is not possessed by You-Know-Who next time.'

'A good suggestion, Cornelius,' Dumbledore said politely, inclining his head. 'The search for a new teacher will soon be underway.' He glanced at his watch and said, 'However, our meeting must come to an end. There is a Quidditch match later today that I cannot miss. Good day to you Kevin, good day Cornelius.'

Kevin and Fudge made for the roaring fireplace, and threw some glittering powder into the flames; with a roar, the fire turned emerald green, and Kevin calmed stepped into it. He said something and was gone in an instant. Leanne would have been shocked if she hadn't have guessed that this was Floo powder in action.

'And Cornelius,' Dumbledore added, as the Minister for Magic stepped into the green flames, 'I suggest that you strengthen the security around Kevin Yaxley's house. I fear that Derrick Travers may return, and if he does do, he may not be as friendly as he was during his first visit.'

Fudge nodded and shouted, 'The Ministry of Magic' and he was gone. Dumbledore turned back towards Leanne, as Fawkes called out softly from behind her.

'I think we have cleared everything up, have we not?' Dumbledore said.

'Yes, I only really came to ask about Quirrell,' Leanne said, but then she suddenly remembered something. 'Oh, has Travers found out that the item he wanted is no longer at Gringotts.'

'I believe so,' Dumbledore replied. 'I recently spoke with a goblin from Gringotts, who informed me that a man fitting Derrick's description wished to see the contents of a vault, and was angry when he did not find what he was looking for. However, he was not using his own identity, nor was he using his own key.'

'Who's identity was he using?' Leanne asked curiously. 'And where is this item now?'

'A story for another time, perhaps,' Dumbledore said, looking at his watch again. 'The Quidditch match will soon be starting, and I doubt you will want to miss it – Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw, I believe.'

Leanne stopped herself from asking more questions and instead followed Dumbledore out of his office, down through the castle and out into the grounds, where most of the other students were walking down to the Quidditch pitch. She found Frieda and Duncan along the way (who seemed quite distant towards each other, probably owing to the fact they would be supporting different teams in the match), and before Duncan had to leave for the Ravenclaw stands, Leanne quickly told them what she had discovered in Dumbledore's office.

'Quirrell possessed by You-Know-You?' cried Frieda, and Leanne quickly had to shush her. 'And the Minister for Magic was there as well? Well, that isn't so great – I've seen him before…'

'Travers is still looking for the other three items,' Leanne plunged on. 'He searched Gringotts but couldn't get it because it had been taken out a long time ago, and like I said the other month, Yaxley had given that skull to Dumbledore so he wouldn't be able to find it…'

But they couldn't talk for much longer for they had to rush to their stands. Leanne knew before the game had even started that Gryffindor had no chance of winning; their Seeker, Harry, was still unconscious in the hospital wing, and although Oliver Wood was pushing his team harder than ever, the final outcome was inevitable. Lee Jordan sadly muttered the score (two hundred and thirty points to Ravenclaw, fifty points to Gryffindor), and the Gryffindors grimly walked out of the Quidditch pitch amid cheers from the Ravenclaws, and even greater cheers from the Slytherins, who had managed to add up the point totals and were delighted to realise that they had won the Quidditch Cup.

Leanne couldn't look Duncan in the eye for the next day, and Leanne had grown very bitter towards him, as if it were his fault that Ravenclaw had won. Leanne, however, felt very resentful towards Roger, who had been a Chaser on the team and had scored three goals for Ravenclaw, though she politely told him that he had flown well during dinner.

And suddenly, there was just a week left at Hogwarts. The next day was the end-of-year feast, during which Harry appeared in the Great Hall. As he proceeded to the Gryffindor table, there was a great deal of muttering and general pointing in his direction, which was stopped as Dumbledore appeared and called for silence.

As Dumbledore made his speech, Leanne looked glumly at the large banner at the back of the hall, which showed the Slytherin serpent; after all, the Slytherins had won the House Cup and were now smiling smugly to each other on their table. However, everybody suddenly went still and silent and were looking intently at Dumbledore, who was smiling slightly.

'Ahem,' said the Headmaster. 'I have a few last-minute points to dish out. Let me see. Yes…First – to Mr Ronald Weasley for the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years, I award Gryffindor house fifty points.'

Leanne could not for the life of her imagine why Dumbledore was awarding Ron fifty points for playing chess, but clapped and cheered along with the rest of the Gryffindors, as the Slytherins sat stonily at their table, probably muttering unpleasant things about them. Ron, meanwhile, had vanished behind several people as they congratulated him, and Leanne caught a glimpse of his face, which was as red as his hair.

Their luck got better; Hermione was awarded another fifty points for her cool use of magic, and Harry was awarded _sixty _points for bravery and courage. As Leanne's voice began to grow hoarse from all the cheering she had done, she heard Fred Weasley saying, 'We're drawing with Slytherin now. Wish he'd given us one more point…'

'There are all kinds of courage,' Dumbledore went on, once the cheers had subsided again. 'It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends. I therefore award ten points to Mr Neville Longbottom.'

Cheers erupted from the Gryffindor table with such force that Leanne feared for the safety of the windows around the hall. They had beaten Slytherin! Gryffindor had beaten Slytherin was the first time in seven years! As the Gryffindors leapt up in excitement and hugged Neville, who still didn't seem to have believed what Dumbledore had said, Leanne glanced over at the Slytherin table. They all looked as though they had been petrified and some of them, Pansy Parkinson included, were shaking in fury. Up on the staff table, Professor McGonagall was also cheering happily, though next to her, Professor Snape was wearing n expression of contempt as the storm of cheers continued to ring out through the hall.

The meal soon started, and the banner of the Slytherin serpent vanished and was replaced with the Gryffindor lion. It was a wonderful way to end a school year, Leanne decided, and even the arrival of her exam results a couple of days later didn't dampen her spirits.

'Yes!' she cried, bounding around as she read her results. 'I passed everything…well, History of Magic was a close one, and I'm pretty sure Snape wanted to give me a much lower mark, but everything else…'

Frieda, too, had received good marks, and Duncan even more so. They had finally forgiven Duncan over their defeat to Ravenclaw after Gryffindor had won the House Cup and they spent the last few days at Hogwarts basking in the sunshine down by the lake.

And then, as if Leanne hadn't been there two days, her first year at Hogwarts had come to an end. The second to last day was filled with the students rushing around and generally getting in everyone's way as they emptied their trunks and wardrobes and prepared for the summer holidays. There was much excitement and people were scrambling around, saying goodbye to their friends.

'Oh, brilliant,' Frieda said, as notes were handed out, telling them not to use magic over the holidays. 'There goes my summer of fun…But anyway,' she added, turning to Leanne, who was pushing Silverstone into his cage, 'you'll have to come and visit me one day in the summer holidays. I'll send you an owl about the time and date and stuff like that.'

Leanne grinned at her happily. She had been looking forward to the summer holidays and seeing her mother again, but her time at Hogwarts had been the best period of her life, and over two months without magic was almost unbearable. Visiting Frieda at her house would be fun, Leanne decided, as they sailed across the lake on the small rowing boats and boarded the Hogwarts Express, but she couldn't wait until she returned here in September…


	18. Chapter 17: The Visit to Lomund Street

**Chapter Eighteen – **

**A Visit to Lomund Street**

**Leanne's mother hugged and kissed Leanne ceaselessly when she arrived back home with Roger. **She asked dozens of questions (mostly involving Derrick Travers and the like), and looked annoyed when Leanne told her that she had not been captured. She was even more annoyed when a post owl arrived at their house every day, pecking on the window, delivering the _Daily Prophet_. Certainly, the neighbours found this rather odd, and Leanne's mother had to start coming up with hasty excuses as to why owls were suddenly flocking to her house. With each _Daily Prophet _('Well, the pictures still move, I see,' her mother had said, not sounding too happy about this fact) came no new news on the capture of Travers, which simply meant that he had still evaded the Ministry. Surprisingly, there was also hardly any news on the Philosopher's Stone or Quirrell, but Leanne assumed that was because Fudge didn't want to start a panic.

The first few days of the summer holidays were extremely fun, with Leanne able to watch television again, but it just didn't beat practising new spells, which Leanne dearly missed. Her wand, along with Roger's, had been locked away so they weren't tempted to use them during the summer holidays. Her books, however, hadn't, and her mother had told the two of them on a regular basis that they should complete their homework as early as possible. Admittedly, most of Leanne's homework was relatively interesting, though she'd rather encounter Filch out of bed at night than complete Professor Binns' essay on how the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy of 1692 came into effect.

Leanne started asking more questions about her father and about what he was like when he was alive, but her mother was giving no responses. Though she still had the pensieve, she had no memories; Dumbledore now possessed the two that Travers had given her, and although she never wanted to see the one where Travers betrayed her father, she was curious as to what the second vial of memories contained.

However, her intrigued mind was distracted nearly three weeks into the summer holidays when an impressive eagle owl tapped on the window as Leanne, Roger and their mother were in the kitchen. Leanne's mother jumped (the eggs in the frying pan she was holding went flying); Roger hardly noticed as he scoffed his eggs, and Leanne peered around the side of the _Daily Prophet _to see what was going on.

'I don't believe it,' her mother growled, opening the window and allowing the owl to flap majestically into the kitchen, upsetting a glass of milk in the process. 'I mean, we've already had one today, delivering that newspaper. The neighbours are going to wonder what on earth is going on…'

The owl, however, seemed highly unconcerned about the opinions of the neighbours and instead hopped over to where Leanne was sitting and dropped a letter that it had been holding in its beak. She opened it quickly (noticing that it was addressed to Leanne Davies, St Edmund's Street) and saw that it was from Frieda. She read through it quickly:

_Dear Leanne,_

_Hope you are well and that you are having a good summer holiday. I was wondering if you'd like to spend the weekend at my house starting Friday 11th July. If it's a good time for you and it's okay with your mum, send a reply back with Goliath. My father will come and pick you up on Friday if you are able to come._

_Love from Frieda_

Leanne looked up excitedly. The owl named Goliath was looking hungrily at Leanne's toast, whilst her mother was hurrying about to clean up the fried eggs that she had dropped.

'Mum, is it okay if I spend the weekend at Frieda's house?' Leanne asked hopefully.

'Frieda?' her mother asked suspiciously.

'Yeah, my friend from school, remember?' Leanne reminded her.

'I don't know if that's such a good idea,' her mother said slowly, looking in displeasure at Goliath as he scattered feathers around the kitchen. 'I mean, that Dumbledore man told me you'd be safe here because he'd put some extra security around it or something, but he never said you'd be safe at anyone else's house…'

'It's okay,' Leanne said quickly. 'Frieda is a witch too, so her house will have loads of magical protection. In fact, I'll probably be safer there because her mum and dad are wizarding folk as well. They'll have loads of magical security on the house, don't worry.'

Her mother still looked unconvinced, but her attention was diverted for a moment, and she cried, 'Another owl!'

Leanne whipped her head around and saw another owl fly through the now-open window, though she quickly realised it was Silverstone, back from a night's hunting. Leanne was only glad that he hadn't brought a dead rodent back with him today. He landed haphazardly on the table, sending more feathers flying (Leanne's mother's mouth narrowed), and looked suspiciously at Goliath.

'It's okay, it's just Silverstone,' Leanne said quickly. 'But anyway, can I go to Frieda's house. Please!'

'Okay, okay, you can go,' her mother sighed, now giving the two owls more attention than her daughter, 'but if even the slightest thing happens there, I want you to call me. Where does this Frieda live?'

'The letter doesn't say,' Leanne replied. 'It just says that Frieda's father will come and pick me up on Friday.'

'Right, well I suppose I'll have to wash your clothes and all that,' her mother muttered, mainly to herself, and giving the two owls one last look, she left the kitchen.

Leanne quickly wrote a reply to Frieda, saying she would be able to make it, and gave it to Goliath. Silverstone looked unimpressed as Goliath flapped back out through the window, apparently under the impression that Goliath was stealing his job. A painful nip from Silverstone and a rushed breakfast later, her owl had vanished again, and Leanne had retreated to her bedroom to hurried complete Professor Binns' essay.

Friday came and still the History of Magic remained unfinished, but Leanne was too excited to care. She wanted to see Frieda again, and couldn't wait to see what a wizarding family was like. She crammed all of her clothes into a bag ('I've just ironed them!' her mother scolded) and was ready an hour after she had awoken, though she knew Frieda's father wouldn't be arriving for quite a while yet.

'That damn owl!' she heard her mother exclaim from the kitchen, and Leanne rushed into the room to discover Silverstone flapping around her mother as she attempted to wash up, sending a mixture of feathers and bubbles into the air.

'Well, he'll be coming with me for the weekend, so he won't be bothering you for a few days,' Leanne said hastily, ushering the owl into his cage.

At midday precisely, there was a knock on the door. Leanne's mother opened it, with Leanne standing excitedly behind her. Just beyond the door was a man wearing what looked like some scuba diving gear. Leanne's mother instinctively gasped, probably from a combination of sheer surprise coupled with the fact a man and his dog had stopped in the street to gawp.

'Hello, I am Hamish McFarlan, Frieda's father,' the man said politely. 'Nice to meet you, Mrs Davies.' He took her hand and shook it, as Leanne's mother spluttered incoherently. 'I'm here to take Leanne to our house, as you know. And don't worry, Dumbledore has been informed of this; he's even ensured extra security has been placed around the house, so Leanne will be quite safe.

'That's… that's good then,' Leanne's mother said finally, still seemingly unable to comprehend that someone could wear something so ludicrous.

'Ah, and you must be Leanne,' Mr McFarlan said, noticing Leanne. 'I've heard quite a lot about you from Frieda, of course. And your name has been spreading through the Ministry quite a bit as well…'

'It has?' Leanne was surprised at that.

'Yes, very much indeed. Anyway,' Mr McFarlan said, glancing around (the man and his dog started walking again, pretending he hadn't been staring), 'I though it best if I Apparate to my house, taking Leanne with me. And since I can't do it within your house, what with all the enchantments placed upon it, I thought we would do it in your back garden, if you don't mind. Not as many prying eyes there…'

'Er, yeah, sure,' Leanne's mother said, and started leading the way through the house into the back garden.

'How interesting,' Mr McFarlan said as he looked around at the rather mundane objects kept in the house. 'It's a wonder you Muggles can stand living without magic. And how come that painting isn't moving?'

Leanne's stifled a laugh as she noticed her mother's lips narrowing at being referred to as a 'Muggle', but she politely opened the back garden and allowed Mr McFarlan and Leanne to step through onto the lawn.

'You won't be needing your owl,' Mr McFarlan said, indicating towards the caged Silverstone that Leanne was holding. 'You can tell him to meet us there, if you wish.'

Leanne extracted Silverstone from his cage and told him to make his way to Frieda's house. Silverstone seemed to know where that was because he spread his wings and flapped away.

'Right, since you are much too young to Apparate yourself, we shall use Side-Along Apparition,' Mr McFarlan said, looking over his shoulder to make sure no nosy neighbours were peering out of their windows. 'If you would grab hold of my arm… yes, like that… and hold it tight – it can be a bit disorientating…'

'Goodbye, mum,' Leanne said, waving to her mother, feeling a wave of excitement wash over her.

Suddenly, everything went black and Leanne grabbed hold of Mr McFarlan's arm even tighter. She felt herself being pressed very hard in all directions, and she couldn't breathe; it was as if iron bands were tightening around her chest. Her eyeballs felt as though they were being pushed back into her skull…

And then it stopped. She could breathe again, and she relished in taking in great lungfuls of air. She looked around and realised, with some surprise, that her mother and garden had completely vanished. Instead, they were standing in an alleyway, but before Leanne had the chance to look around, Mr McFarlan was already walking briskly away, towards a larger street up ahead. It was a quiet suburban road, Leanne soon discovered, and a sign nearby proclaimed: Lomund Street. Once again, Leanne had barely glanced at the sign before she was forced to follow Mr McFarlan again, who was walking fast and looking around anxiously every now and then.

Luckily, they stopped pretty quickly; Mr McFarlan was looking at a house, number six of that road. He waited for a few Muggles to walk past and then, after looking around once more, indicated that Leanne should follow him and then proceeded up the garden path towards the house, which looked neat and well-kept.

'What's wrong?' Leanne asked, noticing that Mr McFarlan was looking around again.

'We don't want Muggles coming near our house, so we've placed an enchantment on it,' Mr McFarlan said as he knocked on the front door. 'Any Muggle who walks by sees a run-down house with broken tiles, smashed windows and an overgrown garden. Therefore, it wouldn't be good for me if the neighbours saw me entering it…'

The door sprang open and there stood a woman, tall and thin with brown hair. She was Frieda's mother, Mrs McFarlan, Leanne knew, for she had seen her very briefly the previous year at Diagon Alley. She glanced from her husband to Leanne and then smiled pleasantly.

'Why hello, Leanne, come in, come in,' Mrs McFarlan said, smiling as she held open the door for Leanne and Mr McFarlan to enter the house. 'Frieda has told us so much about you of course.' She turned back to the house and yelled, 'Frieda! Leanne's here!'

There was a commotion on the stairs and Leanne was aware of someone hurtling down it. Frieda jumped the last few steps and hugged Leanne heartily, before pulling back and smiling broadly.

'Leanne, I'm so glad you made it!' Frieda exclaimed happily. 'You've obviously met my parents…oh, and this is my brother, Oliver,' she added, pointing to a small boy with brown hair who had suddenly appeared at her side, seemingly interested at what the noise was about. 'He's still too young to be starting Hogwarts…'

Oliver didn't look too happy about this and stormed off into the kitchen, leaving Frieda chuckling.

'We can go to my room and…' Frieda began, but Mrs McFarlan interrupted sternly.

'I don't think so,' she said. 'I've just prepared some dinner for us all. I assume you're hungry, Leanne, dear?'

'Very,' Leanne said with a smiling, realising that in her excitement, she hadn't eaten since breakfast that morning, and allowed herself to be directed into a kitchen, though it was a far cry from the kitchen that Leanne's mother worked in at home.

There was a bustle of activity, though none of it seemed to be coming from the McFarlans; there were plates zooming through the air and placing themselves on the tables, along with knives and forks. Some other dishes were cleaning themselves in the sink, and the five chairs pulled themselves out as Leanne and the McFarlans entered so that they could all sit down at the table. Finally, by the window, Goliath the eagle owl was sitting majestically, observing the scene. Leanne sat down, peering around, fascinated by the room; as well as the moving objects, there was what looked like a radio in the corner ('I am Glenda Chittock, and coming up next are the Weird Sisters,' said a voice coming from the radio) and dozens of magical books lined the shelves around the kitchen, most of them, Leanne noticed, cooking books.

'Had a good holiday so far?' Frieda asked.

'Er…yeah, it's been alright,' Leanne replied. 'Nothing too exciting has happened. Mostly just doing homework…'

'Yeah, me too,' Frieda said, glancing at her mother in such a way that suggested she wouldn't have been doing as much homework if her mother hadn't forced her.

'Here you go, dear,' Mrs McFarlan said kindly, tipping some sausages and bacon onto Leanne's plate; the other family members, she noticed, were forced to wait for their food.

'I told my parents about what happened to us – well, mostly you – during the school year,' Frieda said in between looking longingly at the bacon that Leanne was now tucking in to. 'So, naturally, when they learned you would be staying here for a few days, they tightened security around here – I mean, no one can Apparate into the house, and there are alarms that detect other wands besides those that we have in the family…'

'Yes, we were very concerned about what happened,' Mrs McFarlan said, now distributing food to her children. 'He sounds like an awful man, that Derrick Travers. The _Daily Prophet _say they haven't captured him yet, but it's been known to lie before. I don't suppose _you_ know whether they've captured him yet, have they, Hamish?'

'No,' Mr McFarlan replied.

Leanne looked at him questioningly, wondering why Mr McFarlan would know more than the _Daily Prophet_.

'I work at the Ministry of Magic,' Mr McFarlan replied, catching Leanne's puzzled eye. 'I work in the Department for the Regulation and Control for Magical Creatures, but I used to be the Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports. Working at the Ministry, I obtain a few pieces of information that most people don't get. But I know for a fact that Travers hasn't been caught yet; Fudge is still blustering around, saying things about You-Know-Who returning. Poor man – he's probably got enough on his plate about what happened at Hogwarts with Professor Quirrell…'

Leanne and Frieda exchanged glances; it seemed that it wasn't common knowledge that Lord Voldemort had been in possession of Professor Quirrell when he tried to steal the Philosopher's Stone, though it was no wonder; from what Leanne had gleamed from Dumbledore's meeting with Fudge before the end of term, Fudge hadn't sounded too convinced that Voldemort had returned, and was no doubt trying to convince himself that Dumbledore and Harry Potter were wrong.

'But, then again, it's not exactly easy for anyone at the Ministry,' Mr McFarlan went on. 'The Aurors are looking day and night for Derrick Travers; the Floo Network is being monitored and all the rest…'

'What work do you do, Mr McFarlan?' Leanne asked, interested.

'Ah, well,' Mr McFarlan said, sounding happy that someone had asked such a question, 'we monitor the various magical creatures that live in the country and make sure they have safe habits concealed from Muggles. We also keep a strict watch on the trade of magical creatures, amongst other things.'

He stopped talking, however, as the amount of food on the table increased suddenly, and he reached hungrily for something of everything. Leanne also returned to her food, and for a few moments, there was only the sound of knives scraping against plates and the occasional soft hoot from Goliath as he sat by the window.

'That was delicious,' Leanne said once she had finished and handed her plate to a smiling Mrs McFarlan, who waved her wand, and the plate became spotless.

'Thank you dear,' Mrs McFarlan said, as the plate zoomed back into a cupboard. She turned towards Frieda, who was still polishing hers off, and added, 'Once you've finished, show Leanne around the house and then you can go up to your room.'

Frieda leapt up immediately, sending a small piece of bacon flying (her mother waved her wand lazily and it vanished before it could hit Goliath). She rounded on her daughter, looking angry, but Frieda failed to notice as she grabbed Leanne's arm and said, 'Come on!'

Frieda showed Leanne around the house, and she quickly realised that it was a lot bigger than it looked on the outside, and she strongly suspected that a house unaided with magic would probably not have two living rooms, a huge dining room, two bathrooms (on the ground floor only), a study and a cupboard that seemed as large as the kitchen. It was, however, without a doubt, the second best building in the world after Hogwarts; there were paintings with moving pictures in them, whispering as Leanne passed by, objects that occasionally moved, a mirror that loved to tell jokes, a toilet that not only flushed itself, but also had a constantly warm seat ('That really helps on winter days, I can tell you,' Frieda said) and masses of magical items and books. There were, of course, no televisions or computers, since wizarding people didn't need them, but Leanne didn't mind; she knew she would have just as much fun with Frieda and her family.

'Okay, we'll go upstairs now,' Frieda said, guiding Leanne up some stairs that seemed to go on further than the average Muggle staircase did.

Finally, after what seemed like they must be on the third floor, they emerged upstairs and entered the nearest room, which turned out to be Frieda's bedroom. It was much better than Leanne's room, she thought, as she saw the packs of Exploding Snap, a set of wizarding chess, a model of what looked like a dragon (which was moving and irritating a drowsy Rabnott, who was trying to sleep) and a packet of what looked like Dungbombs. Outside, Leanne could see the McFarlan's back garden, which looked as big as a field, and greatly dwarfed the gardens on either side, and then to the darkening sky above it.

'You should get a good night's sleep, you two!' Mrs McFarlan's voice drifted from downstairs, but Leanne and Frieda grinned at each other; she had no plans of going to bed early.

They spent the rest of the night playing Exploding Snape (Leanne, predictably, losing by a large margin) and laughing as Rabnott, startled by the explosions, leapt a few feet into the air and streaked out of the room. As the hours grew later, and the sky darker, the Exploding Snap was discarded and they instead started talking in whispers as the other family members went to bed, only going to sleep themselves well past midnight.

The next morning, however, Leanne wished that she had gone to bed earlier, and as she and Frieda trudged downstairs for breakfast, she tried to hide from Mrs McFarlan the fact that her eyes were still glued together. Mrs McFarlan, however, was not to be deceived.

'Bed much earlier from now on,' she said sternly as Frieda accidentally walked into a chair.

'Where's dad?' Frieda asked, suppressing a yawn as she sat down.

'Work called him in early this morning,' Mrs McFarlan replied, as she made some cereal for Leanne and Frieda. 'Something about an Augurey attracted the attention of Muggles in an Irish town – he had to go and recapture it and put some Memory Charms on those Muggles… He should be back pretty soon, I'd imagine.'

However, no sooner had she spoken then the door to the kitchen burst open and a blustered-looking Mr McFarlan entered the room, looking around frantically.

'Leanne, you're here!' he said, as he eyes rested on her, and breathing heavily as though he'd ran a few miles. 'It's about Travers! They've captured him – last night!'

'What?' Leanne cried, leaping to her feet.

'They captured him last night – Aurors from the Ministry – I've just found out!' Mr McFarlan exclaimed, dropping into a seat as everyone now turned their eyes on him. 'He was skulking around Diagon Alley, close to Gringotts – the Aurors spotted him and quickly Stunned him. He's in Azkaban now…he was found guilty of murder, kidnap and using the Unforgivable Curses – he won't be coming out for a very long time, if ever.'

'Murder?' Leanne asked, having never heard of Derrick Travers murdering anyone since his Death Eater days.

'A murder that he went unpunished for a long time ago,' Mr McFarlan replied. 'I don't know the whole story, but I've learned enough from Frieda and Fudge – apparently, he killed someone to get that ring of his, a witch by the name of Carlotta Whitehorn – somehow, she'd managed to procure it after Travers' father had died.'

'Was he a Death Eater at the time?' Leanne enquired.

'Fudge told me he was,' Mr McFarlan answered, 'because this happened a few months before Travers left You-Know-Who's side, but until now, no one knew that Travers had been responsible for Carlotta's death – people thought that You-Know-Who himself had killed her. It's good that we discovered this information when we did – if we hadn't have known that Travers had committed this murder, he'd been in Azkaban for a much shorter time than he will be now…'

'How do you know that Travers killed Carlotta?' Frieda piped up, ignoring her breakfast.

'The Ministry checked his wand,' Mr McFarlan explained, 'and were able to determine that it was the wand that had performed the Killing Curse on Carlotta Whitehorn all those years ago. Even more conclusive was the fact that Travers fully confessed to the murder – we didn't even need to use Veritaserum…'

'He confessed?' Leanne asked in disbelief.

'That's what I heard,' Mr McFarlan said. 'He confessed shortly after he was captured. The story should be in today's edition of the _Daily Prophet­_ – we'll have to see when it gets here…'

Leanne suddenly felt elated; Derrick Travers, the man who had betrayed her father, and kidnapped Leanne only a few months ago, was in Azkaban, where he would remain for a very long time. She felt relieved once again; Dumbledore had warned her the danger that Travers presented should she ever be caught outside the protection of Hogwarts or her own house, but now she could go wherever she felt without worrying that Travers might be lurking around the next corner…

'You know why he was in Diagon Alley, don't you?' Frieda muttered, as her mother and father started talking about something else; Oliver, who had just joined the table, was too far away to hear.

'Yeah, it will be something to do with that item that was once held at Gringotts,' Leanne replied, 'but Dumbledore told me at the end of term that Travers had already checked Gringotts and had found out that it had been taken out. Wonder why he was back there, then?'

'Maybe he was hoping to grab one of the goblins and find out who had taken whatever it was out,' Frieda suggested.

They were interrupted by the arrival of the _Daily Prophet _(Goliath looked at the small post owl menacingly), and Leanne soon realised that Mr McFarlan had been right; it contained the story about Derrick Travers' arrest, and what was more, it was on the front page. The headline read, 'Travers Finally Trapped!' and went on about how he had been captured, though there was nothing there that Mr McFarlan hadn't already mentioned.

'Hey, you're name's there!' Frieda exclaimed, pointing to the bottom of the column and Leanne leaned over to read:

'_Of course, Travers has been giving us quite a bit of trouble for the past few months,' Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Magic, told us earlier this morning. 'He tried to infiltrate Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and in his efforts to steal the Philosopher's Stone, kidnapped one of the students, Leanne Davies, to obtain information – _

'Well, that's obviously wrong!' Leanne whispered angrily, lowering the newspaper. 'Travers wasn't after the Philosopher's Stone and Fudge knows it – Dumbledore told him the truth before term ended…'

'Yeah, well, from what you've told me, Fudge doesn't want people knowing that You-Know-Who has returned,' Frieda replied quietly, as her parents had their own discussion at the other side of the table. 'If he told everyone the truth – about how he wanted the Orb of the Serpent to defeat You-Know-Who, then he'll be forced to tell people that he has returned. And he doesn't want to do that – he'll have an uproar on his hands…'

'I'd prefer it if we didn't talk about You-Know-Who at the breakfast table,' Mrs McFarlan said sternly, apparently having overheard some of their conversation, and they hastily stopped talking.

'My word, another owl,' Mr McFarlan observed, and sure enough, yet another owl winged its way into the kitchen and deposited two letters on the table, spilling milk everywhere (it disappeared with a quick wave of Mrs McFarlan's wand).

'Hogwarts letters!' Frieda cried, upsetting more milk in her wild lunge to grab the letters, as if she were frightened they would vanish. She eagerly ripped them open and looked inside. 'Hmm, quite a lot of books written by Gilderoy Lockhart this year,' she muttered to herself. 'Wonder who he is...'

'Well, looks like we'd better make a trip to Diagon Alley soon,' Mr McFarlan said, after reading the letters. 'Leanne, you can write a letter to your mother, if you want, to ask her if you can come with us when we go. It will probably save your mother a lot of hassle.'

Frieda was on her feet before her father could finish the sentence, and before Leanne could realise, Frieda had positioned some parchment and a quill in front of her, and was already motioning for her to write. Leanne quickly wrote a short letter requesting if she could go to Diagon Alley with Frieda, and as she tied the letter to Goliath's leg and launched him out of the window, she couldn't help but laugh upon imagining her poor mother's expression when she got yet another surprise visit from an owl.


	19. Chapter 18: Lucius Malfoy

**Chapter Eighteen – **

**Lucius Malfoy**

**Sunday arrived, and with it, the trip to Diagon Alley. **Leanne was awake at the crack of dawn, making small squeals of excitement that were undoubtedly responsible for Frieda's earlier-than-usual awakening. She seemed less than impressed as she sat up, her eyes stuck together, fumbling in the semi-darkness for some clothes and treading on Rabnott by accident. Leanne was pleasantly surprised to see that Silverstone had finally arrived, although she noticed that he and Goliath was perched on either side of the room, glaring at the other.

'A time this early shouldn't exist,' Frieda grumbled as she shuffled off to the bathroom.

Luckily, by the time she had returned, everyone else was awake and slowly making their way down to the kitchen. Mrs McFarlan was the exception; she seemed to be in a fastest time zone than everyone else was, as she zipped around everyone, rushing to make breakfast and organise the table. Leanne's mother would have been impressed, Leanne thought to herself, sitting down at an immaculate table a few minutes later, although, of course, Mrs McFarlan had the advantage of being able to use a wand.

Understandably, there was some considerable commotion at the breakfast table; Leanne and Frieda's excitement caused an unnecessary spillage of milk, and Oliver expressed his annoyance that he wouldn't be accompanying them to Diagon Alley by throwing his breakfast to the floor. Eventually, however, everything was cleared up, Oliver had been shipped to some relatives, and Mr McFarlan had finally torn himself away from _The Daily Prophet _to guide everyone to the fireplace in the living room.

At first, Leanne thought that perhaps Mr McFarlan's eyesight had failed him, perhaps mistaking the fireplace for the front door, but then she remembered about the Floo Network. Mrs McFarlan shoved a pot of glittering powder under her husband's nose; he took some, stepped up to the roaring fire and threw the powder into the flames. With a roar, the flames turned green at once and rose up; Mr McFarlan stepped into the flames, shouted, 'Diagon Alley!' and was gone.

'Frieda, you can go next,' Mrs McFarlan instructed, holding the pot out to her daughter.

She did the same procedure as her father and vanished. Trying not to be nervous, Leanne took a handful of Floo powder, threw it into the fire as Frieda and her father had done, and stepped into the green flames. 'Diagon Alley!' she said clearly.

All of a sudden, she was being sucked downwards, being spun around at great velocity. Something banged into her and she tucked her arms in… there was green all around… she felt sick… there was a deafening roar in his eyes… oh, why were wizarding methods of transports so nauseating?

Then, she fell forward into a fireplace, her hands stinging against the cold flag. She breathed, and stood up, trying to decide which was worse: the Floo Network or Side-Along Apparition. She glanced around and noticed she was standing in a small, dimly-lit pub. She recognised it as the Leaky Cauldron, a little, shabby-looking inn that served as a sort of gateway between the Muggle world and Diagon Alley.

'Ah, you made it,' Frieda said, standing nearby with her father.

Leanne nodded, and stepped out of the fireplace, which was just as well because Mrs McFarlan appeared a second later. Assembled, they walked out into the small courtyard behind the pub, tapped a certain brick on the wall and stepped through the archway that appeared.

Leanne smiled as she looked around. Diagon Alley was exactly how she remembered it; a winding, cobbled road lined with magical shops of every intent and purpose. Like the last time she had visited, she found she had too few heads, for she was constantly turning her neck in an attempt to read a sign or peer through the window of an interesting-looking shop. They found a relatively empty space outside a shop called _Twilfit and Tatting's_, a clothes shop that seemed to be designed for more wealthy wizards and witches.

'Right, let's see what we need,' Mrs McFarlan said, prompting Leanne and Frieda to remove their lists and look at them.

'Well, the new set of Defence Against the Dark Arts books, for a start,' Frieda said. 'Plus, I could do with some new quills and ink… and my robes are looking a little tattered…'

'Fine,' Mrs McFarlan sighed, who seemed like the sort of woman who didn't like to spend money if at all possible. 'We'd better go to Gringotts then and take some money out.'

A quick visit to Gringotts later, they were standing outside in Diagon Alley again, their pockets laden with Galleons, Sickles and Knuts. They entered the nearest shop, _Flourish and Blotts _to purchase the new school books. Leanne remembered the put-upon shopkeeper who had been stressing about the sudden disappearance of the _Invisible Book of Invisibility _during her last visit. This time, he seemed just as annoyed; the vast piles of Gilderoy Lockhart books seemed to have overwhelmed his shop, and Leanne found it extremely difficult to navigate the tall and precariously-placed stacks. In fact, the shopkeeper seemed extremely happy to be getting rid of two lots of each book, packing _Wanderings with Werewolves _into a bag with what seemed like utmost glee.

'What's so important about Gilderoy Lockhart?' Leanne asked, who noticed a sign explaining that Gilderoy Lockhart himself would be in _Flourish and Blotts _in a few weeks to sign copies of his new autobiography, _Magical Me_. 'Who is he anyway?'

'A famous wizard who travels the world, battling vampires and werewolves and so on,' Frieda says. 'Or so he says,' she added in an undertone. 'A lot of girls fancy him… but I don't think he's that nice.'

They quickly left _Flourish and Blotts _because one of the huge piles of Gilderoy Lockhart books had fallen over, and made their way to the stationary shop, where Leanne bought a sink-inking quill and some parchment that elongated itself when you started to room out of room.

The next destination was _Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions_ to buy their robes, which seemed significantly shorter than when Leanne and Frieda had bought them last year. However, some young kids who looked like they might be starting their first year at Hogwarts this time were occupying the stools and looking around with excitement.

As Leanne and the McFarlan family waited by the window, Leanne suddenly remembered something.

'Where about in Diagon Alley was Travers found, Mr McFarlan?' she asked.

'Actually, he wasn't in Diagon Alley,' Mr McFarlan replied. 'He was found loitering in Knockturn Alley, probably looking for some dark object or something. Oh, Knockturn Alley is just up the road,' he added, noting the puzzled look on Leanne's face. 'It's like Diagon Alley, but the shops there sell items of the Dark Arts.'

'I wonder what he was trying to buy,' Leanne mused softly.

'You don't suppose one of the items is down there, do you?' Frieda whispered. 'I mean, we know he already has the ring, and you said Dumbledore hid the skull. Where are the other two? One of them was taken from Gringotts and hidden, wasn't it? But what about the fourth item? No one seems to know where it is. Maybe it's been right under everyone's noses for ages… hidden in Knockturn Alley.'

'Well, it doesn't really matter if it is, does it?' Leanne said. 'I mean, Travers is in Azkaban now. And no one has ever escaped from there, have they?'

'Not that I know of, no,' Frieda replied.

The door to the shop opened and a pale woman with blonde hair stepped into the shop. Weaving its way through her feet was a house elf. Leanne froze for a second, thinking it was Wheezy, but it was different somehow; it was slightly smaller and wearing old rags instead of the brightly coloured children's shorts Wheezy had worn.

Mr McFarlan stiffened as the woman peered around and strode over to Madam Malkin.

'I'm afraid you'll have to wait your turn, ma'am,' Madam Malkin explained, indicating to where Leanne and the McFarlans were standing. 'They were here first.'

The woman looked around and seemed to spot the McFarlans for the first time. For a second, she looked surprised, but then she regained herself and smiled, although it seemed to be strained.

'Hello, Hamish,' the woman said curtly. 'Thought you might have been at the Ministry… heard there was a dreadful incident involving an Augury in Ireland last night…'

'I've already dealt with it,' Mr McFarlan said, his tone flat. 'Heard Macnair killed it after I left. I believe he's a friend of your husband, is he not?'

'He's an acquaintance, yes,' the woman replied.

'So where is Lucius today?' Mr McFarlan asked. 'Not accompanying you to Diagon Alley?'

The woman stared at Hamish with her piercing, icy eyes. 'Yes, he's here but he's attending to some… er, business.'

'In Knockturn Alley, I'd imagine?' Mr McFarlan went on.

'If it were your business, I might tell you,' the woman said coldly. 'But as it is not, I shall not divulge that information. I will get my robes at _Twilfit and Tatting's_. Come, Dobby,' she said, as she headed for the door, and the house elf whimpered and rushed after her.

'Who was that?' Leanne asked as soon as the woman and the house elf had vanished.

'That was Narcissa Malfoy,' Mr McFarlan said, rather darkly.

'Draco Malfoy's mother?' Frieda asked in surprise.

'The same,' Mr McFarlan said. 'The Malfoys aren't a very nice family. Connected to the Dark Arts, the lot of them, I say. Lucius is probably buying something in Knockturn Alley as we speak…'

But they weren't able to speak for much longer. The stools had become vacant, and Frieda and Leanne stepped up to be measured. Once they had purchased their new robes, they headed back out into the sunlight. As Mr and Mrs McFarlan started leading the way, Frieda dropped behind and dragged Leanne with her so her parents wouldn't overhear what they were saying.

'You don't think Malfoy's father is buying something for Travers, is he?' Frieda asked. 'I mean, seems kind of suspicious that he's down here a day after Travers is arrested.'

'I don't know…' Leanne said slowly. 'From what I've heard, the Malfoy family were supporters of Voldemort, weren't they?' she asked, ignoring Frieda's flinch. 'If Travers wants to kill Voldemort, I doubt he'd been allying himself with his followers.'

'Yeah, you're right,' Frieda muttered. 'I guess I'm just too suspicious of people. Still, he's probably up to no good down there…'

'Why don't we have a look then?' Leanne asked. 'Just have a quick look down Knockturn Alley and see what he's doing?'

'My parents would never allow us,' Frieda said, screwing her face up in annoyance. 'Unless…'

'Unless what?'

'Unless we sneak in,' Frieda said with a smile. 'Hey, where are we going now?' she called out to her parents.

'I thought we sit down at a café and have a drink or something,' Mrs McFarlan said, motioning to a small, cute café ahead with brightly coloured umbrellas protecting the outside tables below from the sun.

'Can we just nip in _Magical Menagerie_ and have a look around?' Frieda asked, pointing to a nearby shop.

'Yes, but don't come moaning to us that you want to buy a Puffskein like last year,' Mrs McFarlan said sternly.

Frieda blushed slightly and promised she wouldn't. She pushed Leanne into the shop, which prompted her to stop in her tracks and look around in awe. The shop was crammed with all sorts of magical beasts; cats of all shapes and sizes were prowling the shelves, looking hungrily at the caged rats; some large, orange snails that was called Streelers according to the plaque on their tank were sliding around on the glass; a fire had been caused by an irate-looking fire crab, and an even more irate-looking shopkeeper extracted his wand to get rid of the flames; there were some fluffy, tennis ball-like critters in a cage that were humming and purring, and someone had overturned a tank full of toads, which were hopping around the floor of the shop, providing some amusement for the cats.

'I thought you wanted to see if Lucius was – ' Leanne began.

'Right, they're ordering drinks, let's go!' Frieda said, dragging Leanne back out of _Magical Menagerie _(a plethora of toads leapt out of the way) and pushed her into the nearby entranceway that went into Knockturn Alley. A quick glance around showed that Mr and Mrs McFarlan had not spotted them, and they ducked behind a large bin.

'Is that Lucius Malfoy?' Leanne asked, pointing to a tall, pale man with blonde hair, who was standing a few metres away, conversing with another man Leanne didn't recognise.

'It certainly looks like he could be Malfoy's father,' Frieda said. 'Dunno who that other guy is, though. Come on, let's get a bit closer so we can hear what they are saying.'

Staying behind the bins, they crouched down low and crawled towards the spot where Lucius and the other man were standing. Leanne stopped when they were within earshot and listened closely.

' – you sure you should be buying something like that from _Borgin and Burkes_?' the unnamed man asked, 'especially with the Ministry investigating people's houses?'

'I'm not going to keep it in my house, Avery,' Lucius hissed. 'I'm not foolish. I'm going to hide it. I don't want the Ministry or Derrick Travers stumbling upon it, do we?'

Leanne froze, and inclined her head further towards the two men, eager to see what they were going to say about Travers.

'Travers?' the man called Avery echoed, looking confused. 'The Ministry said they captured him. It was all over the _Daily Prophet_. He's rotting in Azkaban as we speak.'

'If you believe such things,' Lucius said softly.

'You don't believe the Ministry?' Avery asked.

'Oh, I believe that they think they have captured Travers,' Lucius said cryptically, 'but I know Travers. Or, at least, I used to know him. He's a slippery person. He's not foolish enough to come wandering into Knockturn Alley in broad daylight with dozens of witches and wizards around. There's only one reason he would do – he must have _wanted _to be captured.'

'Why would he want that?' Avery inquired.

'Oh, I have a good guess,' Lucius went on. 'And since he planned on getting caught, he must have had a way of escaping, and there's a good chance that he's got what he wants and he's already on the loose again.'

'But… nobody escapes from Azkaban like that,' Avery protested. 'If it were that simple, the Lestranges would have rejoined us years ago.'

'I would not say this in front of Narcissa,' Lucius said softly, glancing around to make sure his wife was not around, 'but Derrick Travers is a hell of a lot cleverer than Bellatrix Lestrange. If he really wanted to get into Azkaban so much, he'll have thought up of a foolproof escape.'

'So that's why you came here and bought the chalice?' Avery pressed. 'You think Travers will still be after it?'

'To be honest, I thought it would be safe in _Borgin and Burkes_,' Lucius explained quietly. 'I never dreamed that Travers would come to Knockturn Alley to obtain it. But when the Ministry said he'd been there when he'd been arrested, I knew I needed to move it. If he gets the chalice, he's one step closer to finding the Orb of the Serpent, and that doesn't bode well…'

'Who even knows if He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is even still alive?' Avery muttered.

Lucius looked at him sharply. 'You have been branded with the Dark Mark, so you know as well as I do that it is clearer than it has been for eleven years,' he said brusquely. 'Travers noticed it too, that's why he decided to find the four Dark Objects. He already has the ring, as you are no doubt aware. The skull was in the possession of Kevin Yaxley, but that fool gave it to Dumbledore. As for the goblet, Travers is probably doing his best to get his hands on it as we speak. I don't know where the other item is. But it doesn't matter.' Lucius Malfoy shook his head slightly. 'Even if Derrick manages to get all four of them, he can't get to the Orb of the Serpents without the chalice. It needs to be filled with the blood of innocents before the Orb is revealed.'

'So you need it hidden?' Avery asked.

'Yes,' Lucius said, 'and as a matter of fact, that's why I asked you to meet me here today, Avery. No, I didn't just want a pleasant chat about the Orb. I need you to take the chalice and hide it well.'

'Why me?'

'Because, if I'm not mistaken, it was you who sold it to Mr Borgin in the first place, no?' Lucius Malfoy asked. 'After all, you managed to escaped imprisonment by claiming you have been under the Imperius Curse, but the Ministry would have realised the truth if they found the chalice in your house, wouldn't they? You were forced to sell it. However, it had stayed hidden for many years prior to that. Not even I could guess its whereabouts. I want you to take it and put it back where you once hid it.'

'And my payment?' Avery asked coldly.

'Your payment will be Travers not getting his hands on the Orb of the Serpent!' Lucius spat. 'Will you take it and hide it?'

'Yes, yes,' Avery grumbled. 'Give it to me.'

Leanne daren't lean around the bin to see the chalice being handed over for she would sure they would spot her; she was already convinced they could hear her pounding heart.

'Very well, my business here is done,' Lucius said curtly. 'I would also ask you to hide the diary, but I have use of that in the near future…'

Leanne felt her jumper being pulled; she turned and saw Frieda tugging on it. She motioned towards Diagon Alley, and pointed at her watch. Leanne understood – they should get back to Diagon Alley before Mr and Mrs McFarlan realised they were missing.

Crouching low, they hurried back to the entrance of Knockturn Alley before straightening up again. Leanne was about to open her mouth to talk about what they had just heard when they ran into someone.

'What were you doing in Knockturn Alley?' Narcissa Malfoy asked suspiciously, staring down at them. Hiding behind her legs was Dobby the house elf.

'Thought we'd have a look around,' Frieda said coolly.

Narcissa gave one last look at them and then hurried down the alley to join her husband, Dobby hurrying after her, looking terribly scared.

'I wonder what on earth all of that was about,' Frieda muttered to herself as they moved towards _Magical Menagerie _so it looked like they had just come out of it. 'Did Travers say anything about a chalice?'

'No,' Leanne replied, wracking her brain. 'Dumbledore said something about the blood of innocents being needed to get to the Orb, but neither he nor Travers mentioned a chalice. Maybe Travers didn't know he needed a chalice…'

'And I wonder why he wanted to be sent to Azkaban,' Frieda muttered. 'And I don't know why Lucius could possible think Travers could escape. I mean, it's impossible.'

'I don't think anything is impossible in the wizarding world,' Leanne said with a laugh. 'They said surviving the Killing Curse was impossible, and yet Harry Potter managed just that.'

Unfortunately, at that moment, Mr and Mrs McFarlan called them over, and any further discussion involving Travers of Lucius Malfoy was stopped in an instant. Leanne tried to get her mind of things by reminding herself she still had almost an entire day with Frieda and her family, but she was distracted by the thought that she might not be as entirely safe from Derrick Travers as she had previously thought…

_Sorry to anyone who reads this and has realised there hasn't been any updates in a long time. It's just that I had lots of chapters written, but then my computer wiped so I lost them all. Now I'm working to rewrite the chapters, and I should update on a more regular basis. Thanks to anyone who enjoys my writing. Don't forget to review if you like (or don't like). _


	20. Chapter 19: Wheezy Returns

**Chapter Nineteen – **

**Wheezy Returns**

**Leanne and Frieda discussed the conversation between Lucius Malfoy and the man named Avery until it was time for Mr McFarlan to take Leanne home. **They thought of many places where the chalice might now be hidden, but, of course, it was all speculative. For a brief moment, Frieda had thought of telling her parents about what they had overheard, but then Leanne reminded her that they weren't supposed to have been in Knockturn Alley to begin with.

But then their discussion was abruptly disrupted as Mr McFarlan offered to Apparate Leanne back to Edmund Street. Once again, the sensation of Apparating with less than pleasant, and didn't even struggle when her mother embraced her. She said goodbye to Mr McFarlan, and then was forced to reiterate to her mother that she had had a safe weekend without any encounters with dark wizards before she finally stopped hugging her and questioning her.

Compared to her weekend at the McFarlans' house, her time back home seemed to drag by. She busied himself doing his homework (and spending days on a fiendishly difficult Herbology essay that entailed writing the differences and similarities between Devil's Snare and Flitterbloom), but she longed to go back to Hogwarts. She kept in touch with Frieda over the remainder of the holidays via owl, and was surprised to learn that Mrs McFarlan had got a job as a Healer at St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Duncan, too, wrote a few times, having been away in Cyprus for a few weeks. He claimed he had spotted a kelpie in the water, but after Leanne consulted _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them _and discovered that kelpies only lived in British waters, she began to doubt his statement, assuming he had seen a large fish or something.

But then, after what seemed like three months rather than one, September arrived. Everyone was up bright and early on the day, with people moving around, hastily trying to get everything packed and organised in the kitchen for the time the official from the Ministry of Magic arrived. Roger was parading around the time, showing off his new _Nimbus 2000_ broomstick, which he had received for the Quidditch team, although he did more harm than good as he accidentally swept Leanne down the stairs with it.

Leanne, meanwhile, after recovering, checked and double-checked she had everything she needed, scouring the room for any wayward quills, pieces of parchment or spell books. She crammed everything she might need – the pensieve, a large box of _Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans_, the locket her mother had given her last year, her wand – into her case and sat on it to make sure it would close properly. Glancing at her watch and noticing it was approaching half past ten, she stuffed Silverstone in his cage (Silverstone gave an indignant hoot), and dragged everything downstairs. Her mother ensured everything was in order, breathed a sigh of relief, and sat down on a chair to relax.

However, no sooner as she down that than the doorbell rang. Leanne's mother jumped, and rushed to answer the door. Standing on the doorstep was the Ministry of Magic official. He seemed to have made more of an effort to dress like a Muggle this year… perhaps tried too hard, Leanne thought, for he was wearing a full dinner suit, complete with tie, although it was wrapped so tightly around his neck, she was surprised he wasn't in the midst of suffocating.

'Ready, madam?' the man asked.

Leanne's mother nodded, and the man extracted a stapler from his pocket, pointed his wand at it and whispered, '_Portus._' The stapler glowed blue and returned to normal. Leanne knew how this worked; she simply had to hold on to the stapler and they would be transported to King's Cross Station in London.

'I shall send your belongings ahead of you, of course,' the man said. 'Are we ready? One… two… three…'

Leanne was tugged backwards, and she was suddenly aware she was speeding along, everything a blur around her apart from her mother and brother who were beside her; the wind howled and whipped around her; the stapler was leading them somewhere… and then they had arrived. She staged, unstable, into her mother, nearly knocking her to the ground. Righting herself and irritably smoothing down her now-ruffled hair, she thought to herself that wizards needed to find more comfortable methods of travel. She didn't have time to dwell on the matter for long, though, for no sooner had their trunks appeared out of thin air beside them, Leanne's mother had glanced at her watch and started leading both of them out of the alleyway they were in, and across the road to the station.

Leanne and Roger said a hasty goodbye to their mother before grabbing their belongings and rushing through the wall between Platforms 9 and 10 in the least conspicuous way possible, although Leanne thought that Silverstone had already attracted enough attention. Nonetheless, they passed through the magical barrier without any Muggles spying them, and then they stood upon Platform 9 ¾, gazing upon the scarlet Hogwarts Express as it billowed smoke over the people scrambling to get on board.

'Wait, Trevor, no!' Neville Longbottom cried as his pet toad made one of his frequent bids for freedom.

Leanne smiled and stepped around him, scanning the platform to try and find Frieda and Duncan, but it was rapidly emptying as people were pushing their way on to the train. She spotted Draco Malfoy amongst the crowd, his face arrogant and smug as usual, pushing his way towards a door with Pansy Parkinson and the other Slytherin cronies.

'See you at Hogwarts, I'm just finding Bradley,' Roger said, waving, as he clambered on board.

Leanne walked a bit further along the platform, hoping to see Frieda and Duncan through the windows, but after noticing that the train was due to leave in three minutes, she decided to haul her belongings into the train and walk down the aisle. Luckily, it didn't take long for her to locate Frieda and Duncan; they were sitting together in a compartment in the middle of the train, arguing about Quidditch teams as usual. Rabnott seemed annoyed at how much noise the two were making.

'Hey, Leanne,' Duncan said brightly, as she entered the compartment. 'I was worried you wasn't going to make it.'

'Well, I did,' Leanne said. 'Oh, and listen, you need to know what Frieda and I overheard at Diagon Alley…'

After she had finished, Duncan seemed annoyed that he had missed all the fun. 'Whilst you were following Lucius Malfoy around, I was doing Transfiguration homework,' he grumbled.

Frieda scoffed. 'You'd have been terrified,' she laughed. 'He'd have heard your teeth chattering. I mean, you're not exactly the bravest person, are you? You jumped when Trevor hopped over your foot on the platform…'

'Yes, well, I'm not fond of amphibians!' Duncan snapped back. 'And as if you're so cool and fearless, Frieda. It's all a façade – I can tell.'

'Getting a bit sensitive, are we?' Frieda asked coolly. 'Oh, look – Rabnott wants to say hello. Not scared of him, are you?' she smiled unpleasantly as she held Rabnott up, who looked as though saying hello to Duncan was the last thing on his mind.

'Yes, well,' Leanne interjected quickly before an argument brewed over. 'Maybe we should talk about what we heard. You're dad's in the Ministry, right?' she asked, turning towards Frieda, who reluctantly placed Rabnott back down. 'Has he heard anything about Travers escaping?'

'No, he would have told me if he had,' Frieda said. 'Maybe Lucius was wrong… maybe Travers did actually get himself captured by accident… I mean, it stands to reason that he'd have been down in Knockturn Alley to get that chalice… he was probably just caught unaware…'

'Yeah, probably,' Leanne said softly.

'Yes, you are right,' said a small, muffled voice.

Everyone jumped, as Leanne's case started opening from the inside, and something leapt out. Silverstone clicked his beak angrily at the small figure that had emerged, and even Rabnott found the energy to awaken and hiss, his fur on end.

Leanne's wand was in her hand in an instant, pointing it at the house elf, for house elf it surely was. The house elf – or, rather, Wheezy – stopped instantly and bowed extremely low, before standing up and looking warily at the wand pointed at his head.

'What the hell are you doing here, Wheezy?' Leanne demanded. 'Tell me quickly, or I'll curse you!'

'Please, Wheezy has come to apologise,' the house elf cried, throwing himself down at Leanne's feet. 'Wheezy never meant to do any of the things he did last year!'

'Then why did you do it?' Leanne asked, not lowering her wand.

'Because my master commanded me to do it!' Wheezy yelled. 'He told me I had to do all those terrible things to you, and Wheezy had to obey!'

'So where is your master now?' Leanne pressed. 'Where is Travers?'

Wheezy started sobbing uncontrollably, wiping his long nose on Leanne's socks. 'In Azkaban,' he sniffled. 'Master told Wheezy that he was going to get something important, but then he never came back. Wheezy read in the paper that he had been captured and sent to that horrid prison. Wheezy is sad, but at the same time, Wheezy is happy!'

'So, does that mean Travers doesn't control you anymore?' Frieda asked curiously, keeping a close hold on Rabnott, who were eyeing Wheezy with malicious eyes.

'Yes, Wheezy is no longer in his master's service,' Wheezy said, and suddenly started crying again.

'Here,' Leanne said, handing the house elf a tissue, fearing Wheezy's incessant wails were going to attract people's attention, and lowering her wand for the first time. Wheezy blew his long nose on it, creating an even louder noise than when he was crying.

'Why were you even hiding in my case anyway?' Leanne asked, exchanging glances with Duncan and Frieda, the latter of whom was wearing an expression that clearly showed she didn't believe Wheezy's story for one moment.

'When Master was sent to Azkaban, Wheezy waited in case he returned,' the house elf explained between gargantuan blows of his nose. 'But when he didn't, Wheezy decided to find Leanne Davies to apologise and tell her about Master's plans. Wheezy went to Leanne's house, but Wheezy feared we'd be overheard if Wheezy spoke to you. So Wheezy hid inside your suitcase so he wouldn't be spotted getting on the Hogwarts Express.'

'Dumbledore won't let you in Hogwarts,' Duncan piped up. 'He'll think you're lying.'

'Hell, _I_ think he's lying,' Frieda muttered darkly. 'How can we be certain if he's really under his master's control or not?'

'No on can be sure,' Wheezy said. 'You must trust poor Wheezy when he says he is sorry for what he has done. But Wheezy shall not be entering Hogwarts. The other house elves will not like that. Wheezy just came to tell Leanne Davies about Master's plans. Leanne Davies must know that Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is in danger. A terrible plot is about to unfold that will put my lives in danger.'

Leanne felt a shiver go down her spine and once again exchanged glances with Frieda and Duncan. 'What do you mean, Wheezy?'

'Wheezy does not know the full details,' Wheezy whispered, looking around to make sure nobody was listening in on their conversations. 'But Wheezy has heard of plans to unleash Salazar Slytherin's beast. Wheezy does not know what they mean, but he has heard of rumours that a huge beast lives below Hogwarts, waiting to be released from his chamber…'

'How did you find this out?' Leanne asked, her throat suddenly dry; even Frieda looked pale.

'Wheezy spoke to another house elf, miss,' Wheezy explained. 'He told Wheezy what Wheezy has told you, but he could not tell Wheezy anything else he would have to punish himself.'

'Where does Travers come in to this?' Leanne pressed.

'Master was very interested in this plot before he was captured – he rewarded Wheezy for finding this information and telling him,' Wheezy said, looking quite proud. 'It was also Wheezy who told Master about a chalice he needed. Master rushed to Knockturn Alley to find it, but Master was arrested before he could get it. Poor Master…' Wheezy lowered his head, and looked like he might burst into tears again.

'So,' Frieda said, 'you found out about the chalice and told Travers? Why would you do that?'

'Because Master was displeased with Wheezy,' the house elf said sadly. 'Master said Wheezy had let him down because Wheezy allowed himself to be captured last year.'

'I thought Dumbledore put a charm on you so you couldn't remember anything that had happened after we captured you,' Leanne pointed out, referring to when Wheezy had been caught just after Travers had lure them all into the forest.

'Dumbledore did, miss,' Wheezy said, 'but Master was suspicious and realised what had happened. Master is very clever. Master is the only one clever enough to go after the Orb of the Serpent. Nobody else is doing it. Everyone thinks You-Know-Who is dead. Master is clever… he knows better…'

'You don't need to keep calling him 'Master' if you're no longer in his service,' Duncan pointed out.

'Wheezy apologises.' The house elf bowed his head once more, scraping the floor with his nose. 'However, Wheezy is so used to it, Wheezy does not think he can stop.'

'Anyway, about this plot,' Leanne reminded him, who had become worried about the whole thing. 'How can there be a beast hidden underneath the school? Surely Dumbledore would have realised by now and gotten rid of it. Unless you mean the giant squid, and I don't think that exactly what you would call dangerous…'

'Dumbledore cannot find this beast,' Wheezy said. 'Nobody can. It was placed there by Salazar Slytherin. He was a wicked man. He did not like how the other three founders were running the school. He hoped that one day it would be released and that it would prey upon those that Salazar saw unfit to attend Hogwarts – half-bloods and Muggle-borns.'

The story wasn't exactly making Leanne feel any better. She glanced towards Duncan – they were both half-bloods. Frieda didn't seem as perturbed; maybe it was because, as a pure-blood, she had nothing to fear, or maybe because she didn't believe Wheezy's story. The latter was probably true, especially since she was such a sceptical person.

'So, someone is going to release this… beast, whatever it is, then?' Frieda asked, sounding thoroughly unconvinced. 'Has it ever been released before? Is there actually any proof that it exists? I mean, Hogwarts was built a long time ago. It could just be a rumour about Salazar Slytherin, you know…'

'It has been released once before,' Wheezy said ominously.

'What? When? By who?' Leanne cried, leaning closer to hear Wheezy's answer.

However, the house elf's ears suddenly pricked up, and with a click of his fingers, he vanished. The reason for his abrupt disappearance was soon evident; the door to the compartment slid open, and in stepped Draco Malfoy, flanked, as he always was, by Crabbe and Goyle. Pug-faced Pansy Parkinson entered behind him, smiling coldly.

'Well, what do we have here?' Malfoy smirked, looking around the compartment.

'What we have here is a slimy toad,' Frieda said calmly, indicating that the toad she was referring to was, in fact, Malfoy.

'Frieda McFarlan?' Draco turned to her as if seeing her for the first time. 'My mother said something about meeting you and your family in Diagon Alley. You were with another girl, she said – probably Leanne Davies if I'm not mistaken.'

'What's it to you?' Frieda asked.

'She said you were skulking around in Knockturn Alley near my father,' Malfoy said softly. 'I'd keep your ears to yourself from now on – you don't want to hear anything you shouldn't be…' he hissed, his eyes narrowed, as he looked between the three of them. 'If I find out you overheard anything my father said, you'll wish you'd never been born.'

'Duly noted,' Frieda said casually. 'Now, if you wouldn't mind leaving…'

Malfoy scowled, and nodded to Crabbe and Goyle, the three of them turning and exiting the compartment. Pansy Parkinson gave Leanne a cold glare before turning and leaving as well.

'I wonder if he knows what his father has been up to,' Leanne muttered. 'Surely he can't know about the chalice or the Orb of the Serpent, can he? He's probably told half of Slytherin if that's the case…'

However, at the moment, the old witch pushing the food trolley appeared, and Leanne, Frieda and Duncan rushed to buy as many Fizzing Whizbees, Chocolate Frogs, Cauldron Cakes and Liquorice Wands as they could, completely forgetting their previous conversation by the time they had sat back down again to consume their purchases.

Indeed, as Frieda and Duncan got into another argument about Quidditch teams ('As if the Wigtwon Wanderers are better than Puddlemere United,' scoffed Frieda), Leanne was forced to entertain herself by gazing out of the window at the afternoon sky and seeing what Famous Wizard and Witch cards she had got in her Chocolate Frog ('Felix Summerbee, Inventor of Cheering Charms' and 'Mungo Bonham, Founder of St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries').

'Hey, Frieda,' Leanne said, looking down at the card, which had suddenly reminded her, and Frieda looked up from her argument. 'Didn't you say your mum had got a job at St Mungo's?'

'Oh, er, yes she did,' Frieda responded. 'Always wanted to be a Healer, and now that dad's working more night shifts, she is able to go and work in the day without Oliver being left on his own.'

The train continued steaming through the countryside, and eventually, the darkening sky not only indicated nightfall was approaching, but also that Hogsmeade Station was close. As the train started to close down, Leanne, Frieda and Duncan quickly pulled on their robes and started to gather together their pets and belongings as the train came to a complete stop at the station. Heading out into the jostling corridor, it took them some time to actually reach a door and step out into the cool night air.

'Firs' years, this way!' a familiar voice shouted, and Leanne saw the Groundskeeper, Hagrid, directly the first-years towards the small rowing boats that would take them across the lake.

Older years, however, reached Hogwarts via a different method. They were pushed in the crowd towards a dirt path, where at least a hundred stagecoaches awaited the students. Leanne, Frieda and Duncan clambered into one of the stagecoaches like everyone else seemed to be doing, and were followed into theirs by Neville Longbottom, who was keeping an anxious hold on Trevor. The stagecoaches started moving up the path towards the castle, and Leanne didn't know whether it was because they had been bewitched, or because some invisible horses were pulling them.

The carriages trundled towards the entrance to Hogwarts, where some great wrought-iron gates lay open for the stagecoaches to pass through. On either side of the gate were two stone columns topped with winged boars, though Leanne only had a quick glance at them before they were through, continuing on up the drive towards the many turrets of towers that characterised Hogwarts castle. Eventually, the carriages came to a stop, and everyone scrambled out, forming a throng of people anxious to get inside, for the steel-grey clouds overhead threatened heavy rain.

Leanne breathed when she finally entered the Entrance Hall. It felt good to be back; the flaming torches cast shadows over the students, and their many footsteps echoed through the hall, but it felt like Leanne's second home. A second door to their right lay open, and before it was the Great Hall, laid out into five separate tables (one each for the four houses, and another for the teachers), ready for the Sorting Ceremony. The sky overheard was inky black and candles floated in midair above the tables, illuminating the silvery ghosts that were dotted around the hall. Many students had already found their seats and were chatting excitedly to each other, no doubt glad to be back. The golden plates were empty for the time being, but Leanne knew that could fill up with food in an instant.

Leanne and Frieda said goodbye to Duncan, who drifted over to the Ravenclaw table, and they themselves found some vacant seats at the Gryffindor table. Leanne looked around at the familiar faces; Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas were talking loudly about what they had done over the summer; Lavender Brown was showing Parvati Patil her new haircut (though Leanne couldn't tell the difference); Percy Weasley was looking at everyone pompously as usual, and having a discussion with Nearly-Headless Nick. Hermione Granger, meanwhile, was looking around nervously, and Leanne soon realised why – Harry Potter and Ron Weasley were nowhere to be seen, and now that she thought back, Leanne hadn't seen them on the Hogwarts Express or on Hogsmeade Station.

'Where do you suppose Harry and Ron are?' Leanne asked, indicating to their empty spaces next to Hermione.

'Maybe they got lost,' Frieda said, shrugging.

A sudden hush fell over the hall as the first-years started walking down the tables in single-line, looking around nervously as everyone watched them. They walked towards the High Table, where a small stool had been placed. They formed a line, looking around apprehensively, no doubt wondering what they would have to do. They weren't kept in suspense long, however, for Professor McGonagall appeared holding a weathered, beaten wizard's hat, placing it upon the stool in front of the first-years, who looked at it curiously. Many of them looked pale.

The other years knew what was coming next and waited with bated breath. Eventually, a rip near the hat's brim opened like a mouth and it started to sing. Like the previous year, it sang about the different houses and explained that new students only had to place the hat on their heads, and it would assign them the house best suited for them. After the song had finished, the first-years looked notable relieved that they weren't going to do anything embarrassing in front of the whole school.

Everyone clapped the Sorting Hat, though it quickly died down as Professor McGonagall appeared again, this time with a roll of parchment that contained the names of the first-years.

'I wonder what happened to Wheezy,' Leanne whispered to Frieda. 'Wonder where he's gone.'

'I don't know,' Frieda replied quietly, clapping along with the rest of Gryffindor as 'Creevey, Colin' became the first new Gryffindor, 'but I'll say thus: I don't trust him. Everything he said could be a complete lie. I mean, a beast hidden below Hogwarts – that's a stretch, you have to admit. Why would Dumbledore allow the school to stay open if that was the case.'

'Well, Wheezy implied it was safely locked away, didn't he?' Leanne pointed out. 'Someone must be trying to unleash it. Who do you suppose would want to do something like that?'

'Probably Snape,' Frieda said darkly, nodding to the Potions Master, who still had sallow skin, shoulder-length greasy hair and a hooked nose. He was clapping politely as 'Lovegood, Luna' was made a Ravenclaw.

'I really don't know what to think about him anymore,' Leanne said, talking to herself as much as Frieda. 'I mean, he was once a Death Eater and he seems… evil, but… if Dumbledore trusts him…'

Leanne ran her eyes past Snape and Professor Sprout to a teacher Leanne had never seen before. He had wavy golden hair and was smiling broadly around the room. He was dressed in vibrant robes of lavender, lurid pink and emerald green. He seemed extremely out of place as he sat between Professor Sprout and Professor McGonagall, who was clapping heartily as 'Robins, Demelza' was made another Gryffindor.

'Who's that?' Leanne asked, pointing to the teacher in question.

Frieda's eyes widened. 'No, I don't believe it!' she whispered. 'It's Gilderoy Lockhart! No wonder we had to buy all of his books. He must be the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. I mean, there's no other vacancies going, and Quirrell won't be returning, will he? For one, he's dead…'

As 'Weasley, Ginny' was made another Gryffindor, all the first-years were sorted and the Sorting Hat was taken away. Ginny joined the Gryffindor table, and was greeted brightly by Fred and George Weasley. Leanne blinked the plates were no longer empty; the house elves in the kitchen had obviously been doing their work. Thinking about house elves once more reminded Leanne about Wheezy. She hoped he returned from wherever he was hiding; she had a lot of questions to ask…


	21. Chapter 20: Gilderoy and the Goblet

**Chapter Nineteen – **

**Gilderoy and the Goblet**

**Waking up in Hogwarts once again was a magical feeling. **Leanne was aware she was grinning innately as she pulled some clothes on, appreciating every little thing about the castle – even the slimy mess Trevor had left behind in the Gryffindor common room. The first-years were even more excited, if that was possible; Leanne saw the first-year Gryffindor girls staying together like a flock of birds, each taking it in turns to took around anxiously as if they were scared a predator would ambush them. Ginny Weasley, easy to spot with her flaming red hair, looked like she might faint in fright, although girl, Demelza Robins, looked a bit more confident and decided to lead the way through the portrait of the Fat Lady in an attempt to find their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

When Leanne reached the Great Hall, and helped herself to some bacon, she wasn't surprised to see that the first-years hadn't yet arrived; after all, the castle was a maze of corridors, moving stairs and misleading doors, and the threatening presence of Argus Filch, the caretaker, and the resident poltergeist, Peeves, didn't help matters.

'Nothing in here about Travers,' Frieda said, placing down the _Daily Prophet_, which she had been reading. 'He must still be in Azkaban – and that's where he'll stay. Lucius Malfoy was wrong.'

There was a small commotion a few seats down. A grey, tattered owl who looked like he was on the last of his small, shaking legs had fallen into the milk jug, spraying milk all over Hermione Granger's copy of _Wandering with Werewolves_ ('Hey!' the moving picture of Gilderoy Lockhart on the front cover said indignantly). A red letter was clamped in its beak, which Ron Weasley extracted nervously.

'Well, they made it,' Leanne said, indicating to Ron and Harry, who was sitting next to him.

But Frieda wasn't listening. 'They've got a Howler,' she chuckled.

'A what?'

'Just watch.'

Leanne did watch. Ron opened the red envelope, and a voice suddenly exploded from within it, shaking dust from the ceiling of the Great Hall, which fell upon everyone's breakfast.

'…STEALING THE CAR, I WOULD'T HAVE BEEN SURPRISED IF THEY'D EXPELLED YOU, YOU WAIT TIL I GET HOLD OF YOU, I DON'T SUPPOSE YOU STOPPED TO THINK WHAT YOUR FATHER AND I WENT THROUGH WHEN WE SAW IT HAD GONE…'

As the voice, which undoubtedly belonged to Ron Weasley's mother, continued to shout at extreme volumes, Leanne was forced to put her hand over her ears.

'I wonder what they did,' Frieda muttered.

'Didn't you hear?' Dean Thomas asked, who had an amused expression on his face, speaking loudly to make himself heard over Mrs Weasley's thunderous voice. 'They drove Ron's father's flying car to school and it crashed into the Whomping Willow, you know, that huge tree out in the gardens that tries to hit people who go too close…'

Leanne couldn't help but laugh. Ron and Harry, however, looked thoroughly embarrassed, and it could not have been clearer from the scowl on Hermione's face that she was not in the least bit amused in her friend's antics the previous night.

'Serves them right,' Frieda said with a final laugh as the Howler burst into flames and curled into ashes.

Professor McGonagall came round with their time tables, and Leanne and Frieda saw they had Herbology first thing. After eating their breakfast, they joined the small crowd of Gryffindor and Hufflepuffs heading down to the greenhouses for the class. Leanne looked towards the Whomping Willow as she walked; she noticed that it was looking rather worse for wear – many of its branches were in slings.

Gilderoy Lockhart and Professor Sprout appeared. At first, Leanne was confused as to why the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher was at the greenhouses, but then he explained that he'd been showing Professor Sprout how to correctly doctor a Whomping Willow.

'Greenhouse Three today, chaps,' Professor Sprout said in a tone of voice that showed she clearly knew how to take care of a Whomping Willow. She glanced over at Professor Lockhart in a disgruntled manner.

Leanne and Frieda traipsed in to the greenhouse, noticing that Lockhart had asked Harry to stay behind outside so he could have a word with him. Everyone took their places around the trestle bench in the middle of the greenhouse, being careful to stay away from the Venomous Tentacula, which extended his vines out towards anyone who strayed too close.

'Please no Fanged Geraniums,' Leanne muttered, looking down at the scars on her finger she had received from mishandling the feisty little plants the previous year. 'Can't we start off with something nice and harmless like Flutterby bushes?'

The answer was apparently no. Professor Sprout explained they would be potting Mandrakes, which looked harmless enough, but required you to wear earmuffs or else the screams of the Mandrakes would knock you out. The Mandrakes themselves looked like normal plants… except instead of roots, they had an ugly, baby-like body.

Frieda was saying something about the Mandrakes, but, since they were all wearing earmuffs to protect themselves, Leanne couldn't tell what she was saying. However, if the screwed-up expression on her face was anything to go by, she wasn't exactly giving the Mandrakes compliments. The Mandrakes themselves were extremely uncooperative and didn't seem to want to be potted, especially since the pot Leanne had been given was about half the size of the Mandrake itself.

Finally, the Mandrakes were more or less potted (Leanne's was simply covered in a pile of dragon dung compost), the earmuffs had been removed, and everyone traipsed back to the castle for Transfiguration.

Professor McGonagall seemed to have lost none of her strict attitude over the summer, and instantly set them the task of turning beetles into buttons, which was easier said than done; Frieda seemed to have lost hers, and although Leanne thought she had successfully transfigured the beetle into a button, it turned out it had simply died, probably due to the over-excursion of scurrying around on the table, trying to avoid Leanne's repeated wand jabs. Ron, meanwhile, seemed to have broken his wand for it emitted copious amounts of grey smoke, and in the confusion, squashed his beetle with his elbow. Duncan, who shared Transfiguration with the Gryffindors, accidentally jabbed his beetle into oblivion, whilst Trevor had escaped and was rapidly eating the remaining supplies. Just when Leanne was started to become severely concerned about the population of beetles in Britain, Professor McGonagall decided to end the lesson there, with only Hermione having completed the task.

The three of them went down to lunch, eager for a break. Duncan and Frieda still weren't having amicable conversations, so Leanne thought it best to sit between them. Duncan busied himself with his Charms homework, whilst Frieda removed the edition of the _Evening Prophet. _

'I wonder how Lockhart got a job here,' Duncan muttered, nodding to where Lockhart was sitting, beaming around the Great Hall. 'He says he's done all these things – getting rid of vampires and hags – but nobody really believes all that, do they?'

'No offence to Dumbledore,' Leanne said, 'but he's not exactly had a record of hiring perfect members of staff. I mean, Snape's an ex-Death Eater, and Quirrell was possessed by Vol – sorry, You-Know-Who! He probably wanted someone who he was sure wasn't a Dark Wizard.'

'Hey, hey, look at this!' Frieda cried suddenly, spreading the _Evening Prophet_ out before them.

Leanne's eyes scanned past an article about how Muggles were mistaking entries in Annual International Wizard Gardening Competition's Contorting Cereal Division for crop circles to a small column at the bottom of the page where Frieda was pointing. Leanne and Duncan leaned over and eagerly read what it said:

_Today, at approximately eight o'clock in the morning, something was stolen from the Azkaban archives. The island prison, located in the North Sea, renowns itself for its strict security, aided in part by the Dementors, emotion-draining creatures that guard Azkaban's myriad of prisoners, many of them Death Eaters. _

_However, this did not stop an item of importance from being stolen from the Azkaban archives, where all items taken from the prisoners upon the time of their capture are placed. The item in question is thought to be a goblet that was found on the possession of Bellatrix Lestrange, a known Death Eater, when she was found guilt of torture and arrested in the early 1980s. The goblet, and item of dark power, was locked away from eleven years within the Azkaban archives, but its sudden disappearance has led the Dementors and guards to believe it has been stolen. How, and by whom, is currently being investigated. _

Duncan looked up. 'So?' he asked. 'I don't under – '

'Didn't you say Travers had mentioned a goblet when he captured you in the forest?' Frieda asked, interrupted Duncan.

Leanne wracked her mind. 'Yeah, I remember now,' she realised suddenly. 'He said he knew where one of the items was located, and that he'd heard a rumour about where another was hidden. I'm guessing the one he knew the whereabouts of was the skull held by Kevin Yaxley because he went to get it off him. He thought the other one was in Gringotts, but Dumbledore said it had been removed a long time ago. The only item that he said he didn't have a clue of its whereabouts was the goblet – yes, I remember now.'

'Well, it looks like he's found it now,' Frieda said, matter-of-factly. 'It was in Azkaban.'

'Of course, it makes sense now!' Leanne realised loudly, but quickly lowering her voice again. 'Lucius Malfoy must have been right. He found out where the goblet was and deliberately got himself captured so he could get the goblet. But… how?'

'How what? How did he get himself captured?' Duncan asked. 'I think that's pretty obvious…'

'No, how he managed to get the goblet,' Leanne corrected quickly. 'I'm sure prisoners aren't just allowed to do pawing through the Azkaban archives…'

Frieda and Duncan were silent, trying to think of a possible way Derrick Travers could have accomplished it. Leanne could feel a shiver going down her spine. Travers obviously knew of a way of escaping from Azkaban or he wouldn't have got himself captured in the first place. She wanted to go and tell somebody what she had learned, but she already knew what the answer would be: 'Don't worry, Leanne, he won't escape from Azkaban, it's impossible.'

'I'll keep an eye on the _Daily Prophet _from now on,' Frieda promised, after quickly scanning through the rest of the paper in the case they had missed a small article.

'Do you think Dumbledore has read this and realised that the goblet is one of the items?' Duncan wondered.

Leanne looked up towards the High Table, but Dumbledore wasn't even seated there. She saw Snape peering around the room with his usual cold eyes, and quickly lowered her gaze.

'Doesn't look like Snape had a very good summer,' she muttered to the others. 'Still looks as bitter as ever.'

'Looks like no one answered my prayers wishing that he would get sacked,' Frieda said, and Leanne and Duncan laughed. 'I think I might throw my cauldron over his head when we have Potions – '

'Not talking about me, are we?' said a silky voice behind them; Leanne jumped and turned around to see the unpleasant face of Severus Snape a few inches from her own, a cruel expression on his face.

'No, we were, er, talking about, erm, Professor Lockhart,' Leanne stammered, saying the first name that popped into her head.

'I'm sure you are,' Snape said softly, 'especially since Professor Lockhart is in your Potions class…' He straightened up. 'I'd lower your voice in the future, Miss McFarlan,' he whispered as he started to walk away. 'And, oh, Mr Chambers, I'd advise you to sit at your own table in the future.'

Leanne glared after Snape as Duncan headed over to the Ravenclaw table, but no sooner had he cleared the vicinity than another person had replaced him. Leanne blinked and had to sit back to actually see who it was. The smiling face of Gilderoy Lockhart peered back at her, a jovial expression on his face.

'Heard you say my name as I passed,' he said brightly. 'No doubt telling Professor Snape about my amazing adventures, hmm? Yes, Severus is quite interested in my work, I'll admit. But between you and me, I think there's a spot of jealousy there.' His eyes twinkled as he smiled. 'Gryffindor second-years, are you? Well, you're in luck – I have you for Defence Against the Dark Arts next.'

'Wonderful,' Frieda muttered, as Lockhart moved away, smiling at everyone brightly, although few people smiled back, and those that did seemed to be excited, giggling girls.

'Well, we'd better get going, I suppose,' Leanne said unenthusiastically, as they stood up and started making their way up towards the first floor, where the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom was located.

'Hey, you're Leanne Davies, aren't you?' asked a voice as they were able to climb the staircase in the Entrance Hall.

Leanne turned around to see a first-year Gryffindor girl standing behind them, looking quite quizzical. She had seen her at the Sorting Ceremony but had forgotten her name.

'Er, yes, I am,' Leanne replied, wondering how she knew her name.

'I thought so,' the girl said, nodding. 'I'm Demelza Robins – I'm in Gryffindor too. My father works at the Ministry, you see – Leonard Robins… perhaps you've heard of him – works in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes…' Frieda nodded in acknowledgement. 'Well, he told me about you, you know,' Demelza continued, looking back at Leanne. 'When they caught that Travers guy, he told him there had been an incident with you concerning him last year. My father is an Obliviator, you see – he had to modify a few memories when Travers ran out into London as they tried to arrest them.'

'Oh,' Leanne said. 'I didn't know he tried to escape into London.'

'Yeah, caused quite a commotion,' Demelza grimaced. 'A lot of Muggles saw what happened – they were a bit confused and scared, I can say. Luckily, the Ministry cleaned everything up… found all the Muggles that witnessed the event and wiped their memories.'

'So… lots of people know about what happened last year,' Leanne asked, thinking the whole situation had been kept under wraps.

'Most things spread round the Ministry like that,' Demelza said, 'but don't worry – I can keep it quiet if you like. I just wanted to see if the story was true. Well, see you around.'

Demelza melded into a crowd of fellow first-years, and Leanne and Frieda continued their journey towards the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. They found it almost empty; Harry Potter was sitting right at the back, seemingly trying to hide himself behind a large stack of Gilderoy Lockhart's books, whilst Lockhart himself was standing at the front of the class, beaming as they entered. They weaved their way through the tables until they found some good seats in a corner, watching as the rest of the class came in.

'You can tell this is going to be a long year,' Frieda muttered as Lockhart picked up a copy of _Travels with Trolls _and pointed to his own winking portrait on the front, telling the class how he had won _Witch Weekly's _Most-Charming-Smile Award or something.

Lockhart then proceeded to set them a small quiz at how much they had read the books. Leanne was slightly startled; she had only had a quick flip through them, and a quick glance towards Frieda told her she had done the same. However, Lavender Brown, who was sitting in front of them, seemed to know what she was doing, so tried to copy her answers in the least conspicuous way possible. Luckily, Lockhart was too busy admiring his own portraits to notice.

With the tests over, the lesson continued, and Leanne found herself staring at Lockhart in disbelief, though not in awe at what he had supposedly done like some people, such as Hermione Granger and Lavender Brown, but rather in disbelief that someone could be so full of themselves. Other people, especially Ron Weasley and Dean Thomas, also had similar incredulous expressions on their faces.

For a brief second, Leanne actually started to get excited when Lockhart extracted a covered cage from behind his desk and starting saying that what was contained within was amongst the 'foulest creatures known to wizardkind'; however, the excitement quickly passed when Lockhart whisked the cover away, revealing some small, blue creatures that didn't look anything like the terrifying creature with fangs that Leanne had imagined to be locked away in the cage.

'Yes,' Lockhart said loudly. 'Freshly caught Cornish pixies.'

Unsurprisingly, there wasn't an uproar of terror as people ran for the door. Even Neville Longbottom, who was sitting right in front of the cage, looked unperturbed.

'Right then,' Lockhart said, eager to impress the class. 'Let's see what you make of them!'

He opened the cage and the pixies shot out to all four corners of the room, ripping books, overturning tables, throwing ink bottles everywhere, upended the waste bin on Dean Thomas' head, lifted Neville into the air and hung him from the candelabra, smashed windows and threw books and bags through them (Leanne grabbed hold of her own bag tightly as a pixie tried to wrench it from her grasp) and generally started terrorising everyone as they ducked to find a safe place to hide.

'_Peskipiksi Pesternomi_!' Lockhart shouted, although Leanne had a sneaky suspicion that it wasn't even a real spell for nothing whatsoever happened – the pixies continued their rampage.

The bell suddenly rang and everyone dashed for the exit, eager to escape. Leanne and Frieda managed to get to the door just before Harry, Ron and Hermione, which was just as well because Leanne heard Lockhart asking them to stuff the rest of the pixies in their cages. Lockhart bustled out of the door, mopping his brow.

'I don't know who is worse – Lockhart or Quirrell,' Frieda muttered. 'I know Quirrell was being possessed by You-Know-Who and all, but at least he taught us a few things. All Lockhart has showed us so far is how to create a huge mess… There's no way he's done all the things in those books that he's said he has…'

As they headed back the Gryffindor Common Room, Leanne also found herself musing over the choice, and like Frieda, found it a very difficult one indeed.


	22. Chapter 21: The Wayward House Elf

**Chapter Twenty-One– **

**The Wayward House Elf**

The sight of Gilderoy Lockhart striding down a corridor, beaming around brightly, quickly became a common one; when he wasn't releasing Cornish pixies from cages, it seemed, he was trying to duplicate the exact expression that all of his portraits on his books were wearing, and wasn't afraid to show everyone. He also seemed to have developed an interest in Harry Potter, and more than once, Leanne had spotted Harry ducking out of sight the moment he spotted Lockhart strolling towards him. The story of how he and Ron had flown to school seemed to have died down a bit, though Ron's wand, which had seemingly suffered in the crash, wasn't working too well, often sending up sparks when he tried to do another spell. 

Potions, meanwhile, was still a horrible endeavour. Snape was in a particularly foul mood, it seemed, and set them about the fiendishly difficult task in creating a Sleeping Draught in a time limit that would not have been sufficient enough to escape from a classroom of rampaging Cornish pixies. The reason for his unpleasant mood soon became apparent, as he patrolled the cauldrons.

'You would have thought,' Snape said silkily as he walked towards the Gryffindors' cauldrons, 'that Mr Potter and Mr Weasley would have been expelled for such a… dramatic start to the school year, but alas not…'

Harry and Ron didn't seem to hear; they were too busy scrambling to pick up the toad spleens Neville had dropped everywhere. The Slytherins, meanwhile, heard him perfectly and started sniggering. Leanne tried to keep her head down as Snape headed towards where she and Frieda were making a spectacular mess of their own Sleeping Draught, but Snape quickly spotted their multiple mistakes.

'A Sleeping Draught should not be purple, Miss Davies!' Snape snapped. 'Five points from Gryffindor for sheer incompetence.'

Any attempts to protest that Crabbe also had a potion of a similar colour fell on seemingly deaf ears, for Snape returned to the front of the classroom. Leanne scowled at the back of his head.

'I wish he'd get sacked or something,' Frieda muttered. 'Or maybe drink a Draught of Living Death so he falls asleep for a year or something.'

Luckily, Potions was the last lesson of the day, and after they hurried from the dungeons, still smelling of Sleeping Draught gone wrong, Leanne and Frieda headed out into the courtyard to relax. It wasn't long, however, before Duncan came hurrying out, clutching what seemed to be today's issue of the _Daily Prophet_.

'Look,' he said, sounding rather breathless, as if he'd searched the entire castle for him. 'There's something in the paper about Azkaban – looks like two Ministry officials have simply vanished…'

Leanne and Frieda took the _Daily Prophet _from Duncan and lay it out before them, reading the article.

_Roderick Thackley, 35, and Donaghan Thruston, 41, simply vanished yesterday following a routine inspection of Azkaban prison. The two men worked for the Ministry of Magic in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and performed a monthly inspection of Azkaban on Tuesday 1__st__ September. The inspection lasted less than two hours and were seen leaving Azkaban shortly afterwards. However, since then, both Thackley and Thruston have seemingly vanished from the face of the earth. According to reports, they did not return to the Ministry with the results of their inspection, nor have they returned home._

'_It's a complete mystery,' Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Magic, told our reporter. 'I really am at a loss as to where they could have gone. But, rest assured, there are people out there looking for them as we speak.'_

_Even more mysterious is the death of two Azkaban prisoners, which happened mere hours after Thackley and Thruston left the prison. The Dementors reportedly discovered a hand of one of the prisoners, the only thing that remained of his body. Officials are at a loss as to how to explain such an occurrence; the prisoners killed themselves, according to exports, yet how they managed to hardly leave a trace of their bodies without their wands is a baffling mystery. _

_The case is currently under close scrutiny, although the identities of the prisoners have not yet been released. The fact that the prisoners killed themselves on the same day as Thackley and Thruston vanished, and also the same day a goblet was found missing in the Azkaban archives by the Ministry officials would indicate a connection between the three incidents, but one has not yet been found. _

'Roderick Thackley?' Frieda repeated, glancing at the name in the article again. 'My dad knows him, they were quite good friends at the Ministry.' She frowned. 'I wonder where they've gone.'

'There's something odd going on,' Leanne muttered. 'I mean, like the thing said, they've _got _to be connected, right? Two people don't just kill themselves at the same time as two other people completely vanish. Do you think this has something to do with Travers?'

'Could be,' Duncan said, shrugging. 'But he's been in there for quite a while, hasn't he – over a month now, isn't it? If this is his doing, I don't know why he'd wait so long…'

'You don't suppose that one of the prisoners that killed themselves _is _Travers, do you?' Frieda asked thoughtfully. 'Maybe someone got to him – you know, a follower of You-Know-Who. Probably Mr Malfoy.' Frieda jerked her head over to where Draco Malfoy was sitting on the other side of the courtyard, also reading the _Daily Prophet _with some interest. 'Don't know how everything else fits in to it.'

'Could be,' Leanne said. 'From what it seems, everything happened on the same day – September 1st, the day we came back. They reported the disappearance of the goblet yesterday, and the other things today – '

'Probably making sure they had their facts straight and that Thackley and Thruston didn't turn up again,' Frieda said, nodding.

'Exactly,' Leanne agreed. 'The way I see it, Thackley and Thruston showed up for the inspection and whilst they were there, they noticed the goblet had vanished. Then, a couple of hours later, they leave Azkaban and are not seen again. Not long after that, two prisoners kill themselves somehow. Maybe Travers had already stolen the goblet and was killed by someone…'

Frieda shook her head. 'Everyone gets their wands taken off them when they are put in Azkaban – broken sometimes,' she explained. 'Visitors aren't allowed to carry them, apart from important Ministry officials… and I can't imagine those two inspectors killing them, can you?'

'Well, somehow they managed to kill themselves without their own wands,' Duncan mused.

Frieda frowned. 'I don't understand it,' she muttered. 'It just doesn't make any sense.'

Leanne stood up.

'Where are you going?' Duncan asked.

'To find Dumbledore,' Leanne replied, folding the _Daily Prophet _up under her arms. 'I need to see if he's read the article – he might know more than what we do…'

Leanne left the courtyard and entered the corridor that was across from the Great Hall and up the staircases until she reached the second floor, where Dumbledore's office was located. She had been there twice before and so she knew where she was going; 'Sherbet lemon,' she said to the gargoyle that guarded the way to Dumbledore's office; it leapt aside, and the wall behind it started splitting in two, revealing a spiral staircase that moved smoothly upwards. She stepped on to it and rode it to the top, where a large oak door led the way to the Headmaster's office. She rapped on the door.

'Come in,' said a voice from within.

Leanne pushed open the door and looked around. It was much the same as it had been last time; various silver instruments still sat on the spindly tables, the people in the portraits still moved, glancing down at Leanne in mild curiosity as she entered, and Fawkes the phoenix still sat on a perch behind the door. He was looking a bit worse for wear; some of his brilliant scarlet feathers were starting to fall out.

'Ah, Leanne,' said Dumbledore from behind his large desk. 'What a pleasant surprise. What brings you to my office?'

'Er, I've just been reading the newspaper and I saw an article about – ' Leanne began, but Dumbledore smiled and raised a hand to stop her.

'Yes, I, too, have read the article in question,' the Headmaster said. 'No doubt you are wondering if the recent incidents occurring at Azkaban are related to Derrick Travers, am I correct?'

'Yes, sir.' Leanne nodded.

'Unfortunately, I know as little as you do,' Dumbledore said, sounding almost apologetic. 'However, I was most curious by the incident. I spoke with Cornelius about the matter, but his response, as always, was rather vague. Therefore, I sent Everard – ' he gestured to an empty paintings behind him ' – to go to his other portrait at the Ministry of Magic to see if he can gleam anything new. However, don't expect too much, Leanne; the chances are everyone is as at a loss as we are. Indeed, I am certainly confused as to how two prisoners could have killed themselves with what must have been a powerful magical spell without a wand.'

'Oh.' Leanne looked down. She was a bit disappointed that Dumbledore didn't know anything new. 'Did you also hear about the goblet? It vanished from Azkaban. Travers told me it was one of the items that he needed…'

'Yes, I heard,' Dumbledore nodded softly. 'Troubling news – it makes one wonder if Derrick Travers is indeed responsible for the incident at Azkaban. He has obviously been working hard, that I can be sure of. Last years, he did not know of the whereabouts of the goblet, and the fact that he is now within Azkaban and that the goblet has vanished seems to closely linked to be a mere coincidence.'

'Do you think Travers got captured on purpose then?' Leanne asked. 'So he could get the goblet?'

'It's a possibility,' Dumbledore said slowly, 'but a risky choice on his behalf. People have tried to escape from Azkaban before, but none have succeeded. Most are too afraid of what the Dementors will do if they try… you see, a Dementor's most feared attack is its' kiss. If a Dementor kisses you, it sucks out your soul, leaving an empty shell behind.' Dumbledore paused for a second, and then continued, softly, 'It isn't pleasant. Travers knows about this. I'd be surprised if he tried to escape, yet if that is the case, why would he get himself captured on purpose? Yes, he might be able to procure the goblet, but what use is it if he is stuck in Azkaban for the rest of his life?

Dumbledore glanced at the empty portrait, but Everard had still not returned. 'I'm awaiting news from the Ministry as to who exactly killed themselves,' he said. 'Maybe if we know who did it, we can started piecing things together…'

'Oh, I also heard Lucius Malfoy in Diagon Alley talking about a chalice,' Leanne remembered suddenly. 'He said it needed to be filled with the blood of innocents for someone to get to the Orb of the Serpent. So it's not one of the four items then?'

'No, although it's just as important,' Dumbledore said. 'I have only just recently obtained knowledge about the chalice, also from Lucius. He told me that it had been held in _Borgin and Burkes_, but said it wasn't there when he went to check during the summer.'

'The liar!' Leanne shouted. 'I overheard him saying he had bought it from _Borgin and Burkes_, and I saw him hand it over to another man.'

'I know,' Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling. 'Lucius does not realised that I am quite the skilled Legilimens. However, I was not able to find out where Lucius has hid the chalice since.'

'And what about the skull? Is that still safe?' Leanne asked.

'Its is, yes,' Dumbledore replied. 'As is the fourth item – at least, for the time being.'

'Where is the fourth item?' Leanne pressed. 'What is it?'

'The fourth item is safe, that is all I shall tell you,' Dumbledore said. 'It was once held in Gringotts, but was taken out a long time ago. Luckily, Travers never realised. As you know, Derrick searched the vault it was in, using another identity and another key, but it was not there. It was then, I believe, that he discovered the whereabouts of the goblet.' Dumbledore glanced at his watch. 'Now, I must see what is taking Everard so long. Is there anything else you wish to ask me before I go?'

'Er, yes,' Leanne said tentatively. 'I was wondering when I could see what was in that vial of memories you took off me last year…'

Dumbledore's smile faded. 'Unfortunately, I cannot allow you to see it yet,' he said quietly. 'When you are old enough, and able to emotionally deal with the contents of that memory, I shall let you see it. But, for now, it has to stay in my possession, I'm afraid.'

'Right, okay then,' Leanne said quietly, trying to think what on earth the memory could contain if Dumbledore was so reluctant to show her; he had, after all, allowed her to see the memory where her father had been killed by Aurors, so whatever this memory contained had to be even worse, if that was at all possible.

'I don't mean to be rude, although it sometimes happens inadvertently, but I'm afraid I'll need to ask you to go,' Dumbledore said diplomatically. 'There is important business at the Ministry that I must attend to. Rest assured, Leanne, if I heard of anything else that the Ministry decides not to publicly disclose, I shall inform you.'

'Er, right, thanks,' Leanne said, heading for the door; Fawkes cooed softly, as she opened it and stepped out on the moving staircase, heading back down to the second floor as she tried to run through the possibility of what the memory might contain…

For the next few days, Leanne, Frieda and Duncan pondered over the contents of the memory, but came up with nothing substantial, and some of the suggested answers ('Maybe Dumbledore doesn't want to show you because it's very embarrassing – perhaps it shows your father as being the brother of Lockhart,' Duncan shrugged) were downright silly. Leanne checked the _Daily Prophet _everyday in case more news of what had happened was released, but Leanne couldn't find even the smallest of article as she checked the paper thoroughly at least three times.

Frieda had written to her father to see if he knew everything, but he replied saying everyone was being kept in the dark about it. Leanne kept searching the High Table whenever she was in the Great Hall, hoping to ask Dumbledore if he had found something new, but he hadn't been there any of the times she had looked. She wanted to head to his office again, but thought it best not to; she thought he might start to get annoyed with her uninvited visits. Leanne asked Professor McGonagall at the end of their Transfiguration lesson on Friday if she knew where Dumbledore had gone, and according to her, he was dealing with important matters at the Ministry of Magic.

Meanwhile, after their disastrous lesson about Cornish pixies, Professor Lockhart had wisely not brought any more creatures to the lesson, and instead seemed content to read chapters of his various books to the class, seemingly unaware that people were falling off their chairs in their boredom. Somehow, though, a few people managed to stay awake in the lesson and looked at Lockhart with rapt attention, Hermione Granger being the most obvious one. Potions also wasn't getting better, since Pansy Parkinson tripped Leanne up into her own cauldron, spilling her (improved) Sleeping Draught over Neville, causing him to fall asleep in his own cauldron, and with the final result being fifteen points from Gryffindor. Therefore, Leanne was thankful when the weekend came and she was able to relax.

After a pleasant Saturday afternoon of resting by the lake with Frieda and Duncan, and trying not to worry about anything that might be happening with Travers or Azkaban, Leanne and Frieda bid Duncan goodbye and headed back to the Gryffindor Common Room as dusk approached. They didn't stay there for long; even the amusing sight of Fred and George Weasley playing with Nose-Biting Kettles couldn't stop their eyelids from getting heavy, and eventually climbed the stairs to the girls' dormitory.

Leanne quickly got undressed and clambered into bed, but no sooner had she closed her eyes than they snapped open again. The sound of someone screaming reached her ears; she jumped up, looking around wildly, but the scream sounded fainter, from another room. Frieda was already on her feet, listening closely, as was Lavender Brown; Parvati Patil and Hermione Granger peeked out from under their covers groggily, trying to figure out what was going on.

'It sounds like it's coming from the first-years' dormitory,' Frieda whispered, and she quickly led the way out of the room and down the landing to where the first-year girls slept.

She pushed open the door, Leanne and Lavender right behind her, to see girls rushing around in panic. Demelza Robins was sitting on her bed, crying and seemingly the source of all the noise whilst other girls tried to comfort her; Ginny Weasley, meanwhile, was searching the room with a dark expression on her face, checking under the beds.

'What happened?' Leanne cried.

'Something attacked her,' Ginny said, indicating to Demelza Robins, who was shaking all over.

'By who?' Frieda asked.

'By what should be the question,' Ginny replied darkly. 'She said it was something small and grey – she woke up and there it was, tugging on her hair… or so she says.'

'Are you sure it wasn't a nightmare?' Frieda asked quietly.

'Doesn't look like it.' Ginny bent down and picked up a handful of hair the same colour as Demelza's.

'What if it's still around?' Lavender asked nervously, inching back towards the door and glancing into the corners of the room.

'Sounds like a house elf,' Leanne whispered to Frieda. 'Wheezy.'

'What the hell was Wheezy doing in there?' Frieda asked quietly. 'I told you not to trust him…'

'It's okay, you get back to bed, we'll look after her,' Ginny reassured them. 'We'd better tell Professor McGonagall in the morning…'

Leanne and Frieda reluctantly left (Lavender had already scurried back to the second-year dormitory), leaving Demelza in what seemed to be a state of shock. They started walking back when there was a crack, and before Leanne had even comprehended Wheezy's sudden appearance, Frieda's wand was in her hand and pointing at him.

'What did you do to the girl?' Frieda demanded, her wand aimed at Wheezy's throat. 'Demelza Robins – what did you do to her?'

Wheezy cowered. 'Wheezy does not know what miss means,' he whimpered. 'Wheezy only came to warn Leanne Davies about something that is happening tonight in Hogwarts.'

'Why, what's happening?' Leanne asked, forcing Frieda's wand down so it lay by her side.

'Ah, Wheezy heard of a plan, miss,' the house elf said quickly. 'A plan to infiltrate Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Wheezy fears Dobby might already be here – '

'Dobby?' Leanne asked quickly. 'You mean the Malfoys' house elf? What has he got to do with everything?'

'Dobby is who told me about the chalice, miss,' Wheezy said. 'Dobby learned from his Master and told me, but Dobby had to punish himself afterwards – Dobby is not supposed to tell Wheezy such things. Dobby also told me about Salazar Slytherin's beast – '

'Wait,' Leanne said suddenly. 'If Dobby told you about that, that means he learned it from his Master – he learned it from Lucius Malfoy, right?' Wheezy nodded. 'So… that means he's planning on releasing it again, isn't he? Or at least he knows about the plan.'

'It makes sense,' Wheezy said slowly. 'Wheezy did not realise – Wheezy is quite foolish.'

'Yeah, that's all very well and good,' Frieda said, 'but you still haven't told us exactly why you're here, and why you attacked Demelza.'

'Wheezy did not attack anyone,' the house elf said, looking puzzled. 'Wheezy came here tonight to warn Leanne Davies that Dobby had been told to come here tonight on a top-secret mission.'

'So you're saying it was Dobby and not you who attacked her?' Leanne asked.

'Wheezy does not know for sure if Dobby did it, but Dobby was asked to come here. Dobby said, he said, 'Master has told me to go to Hogwarts. Dobby does not want to, for Dobby does not like Master's plans, but Dobby must do as he is told'. Wheezy became concerned for Leanne's safety and hurried here to warn you.'

'I bet you did,' Frieda muttered, obviously unconvinced.

'To be honest, I'm more worried about this beast being unleashed than Demelza being attacked by a house elf,' Leanne fretted. 'I mean, what is it? Is Lucius Malfoy really going to set it free? Why would he? He has a son here – wouldn't he be endangered?'

'Ah, miss, the beast lives in a chamber beneath the school,' Wheezy explained. 'It was placed there by Salazar Slytherin because he only wanted pure-bloods to come to Hogwarts. He left the school, but intended for his true heir to open the chamber when he came to Hogwarts and unleash the beast within. The beast would prey upon those Salazar saw unfit to wield magic – half-bloods and Muggle-borns, miss.'

'So Malfoy would be unaffected, wouldn't he?' Leanne realised. 'He comes from a pure-blood family. Hey, Wheezy, didn't you say the beast had been unleashed once before?'

'Yes, quite a few years ago.'

'You don't suppose the Malfoys are the heirs of Slytherin, do you?' Leanne pondered thoughtfully. 'I mean, what if Lucius Malfoy open this chamber and unleashed the beast all those years ago when he was at Hogwarts, and now his son is about to do it again.'

'I wouldn't put it past him,' Frieda muttered.

'You say Travers became interested in all this when you told him what you had found out from Dobby?' Leanne enquired, remembering that Wheezy had said his Master had been intrigued by the plot when he had appeared on the Hogwarts Express.

'Yes, he believes it will help him in his plan to defeat…' Wheezy shuddered and whispered, 'You-Know-Who. He believed, before he was captured, that he was close to finding a Horcrux.'

'A what?' Leanne asked. 'What's a Horcrux?'

But a door opened behind them; it was Hermione, seemingly attracted by the noise. Leanne and Frieda moved quickly to block Wheezy from view, as Hermione said, 'What on _earth _are you doing out here, have you seen what time it is?'

'I shall return soon,' Leanne heard Wheezy whisper behind her. 'I will tell you everything then.'

There was a crack and he vanished.


	23. Chapter 22: The Horcruxes

**Chapter Twenty-Two– **

**The Horcruxes**

**Wheezy did not return soon. **Leanne kept thinking he would pop up out of nowhere one day to tell her what he had promised to reveal, but Wheezy was keeping a low profile. Leanne had been curious about something Wheezy had mentioned before he had vanished: Horcruxes. She spent a few afternoons glancing through some books in the library, carefully watched, as always, by Madam Pince, the librarian, but she was unable to find anything. However, as September slipped into October, one person who did return was Dumbledore. Leanne quickly asked if she could speak to him about what had happened, and Dumbledore complied, inviting Leanne to his office.

Leanne told him everything that had happened; about Demelza's attack, about Wheezy seemingly having changed sides and about the plan to unleash Salazar Slytherin's beast from its chamber beneath the school. Dumbledore sat behind his desk, listening politely, but even when Leanne had finished, he did not speak for some time.

Just when Leanne thought she had better check him for signs of life, Dumbledore said, 'All of this is certainly troubling. Professor McGonagall, of course, alerted me to Demelza Robins' attack. I have ensured that security around the castle is even tighter, but house elf magic is even more powerful than any enchantment I can create. All I can hope is that no such incident will take place again, although I am at a loss as to what the house elf in question hoped to achieve by attacking Demelza. I asked Lucius about the incident, although he is claiming ignorance.'

'But couldn't you just read his mind?' Leanne asked.

Dumbledore smiled. 'Legilimency isn't quite as easy as that,' he said softly. 'However, even more troubling is the opening of the Chamber of Secrets – yes, that is where the fabled beast of Salazar Slytherin is said to dwell. Most people think it is a legend. I would not be so foolish as to adamantly believe it wasn't real since I have witnessed the first opening of the Chamber – Hogwarts nearly closed down for good… of course, that was quite a while ago, before I was Headmaster…'

'Who opened it then?' Leanne asked.

Dumbledore either didn't hear, or chose not to answer. 'I will, therefore, be keeping a close and wary eye on Lucius,' he instead said. 'I do not believe he would try to do anything regarding the Chamber of Secrets whilst the school is under my protection.

'Now, onto the subject of Wheezy. My concern, normally, would be his allegiance. I am uncomfortable with him infiltrating the school and communicating with you, but that is out of my control. A warning is all I can give you: please be extremely careful when around him, and try not to believe everything he says. That said, however, my investigating into the occurrences at Azkaban have shed new light onto the matter. I now know the identities of the two prisoners who killed themselves.'

'You do?' Leanne asked excitedly. 'Who?'

'One of them is Herman Yaxley, brother of Kevin Yaxley, whom you met a few times last year,' Dumbledore replied. 'The other is none other than Derrick Travers.'

'What? He's dead?' Leanne gawped at Dumbledore.

'It would appear so,' Dumbledore said. 'But again, how – and, indeed, why – he killed himself without a wand is a perplexing matter. Even odder is the fact Herman Yaxley did exactly the same thing at exactly the same time, even though they were at opposite ends of the prison with no method of communicating with each other. And, alas, there is still no sign of the missing Ministry officials, Roderick and Donaghan. I just wish Cornelius would stop sending me letters asking for advise – I know as little on the matter as he does, unfortunately.'

'So that means for certain that Wheezy is not working for Travers, at least,' Leanne said.

'It would appear so,' Dumbledore repeated. 'You say he has not appeared in a while? Perhaps this has something to do with Derrick's death. And, speaking of disappearances,' Dumbledore continued, sounding more grave, 'I attempted to contact Kevin Yaxley concerning his brother's fate. However, I found his house empty. The Ministry said they would investigate the matter, but, to be frank, they have a lot of things to be dealing with – locating Kevin Yaxley, a rather lowly wizard, won't be on the top of their to-do list. However,' Dumbledore frowned as an owl appeared at his window, pecking on it with its beak, 'sending me letters seems to be a Ministry priority at the moment.'

Dumbledore crossed the room, opened the window and allowed the brown owl to enter. It was clutching a letter from the Ministry of Magic in its beak; it handed it to Dumbledore, who waved his wand at it, causing it to magically open. 'Another letter from Cornelius,' he sighed, after glancing at it over his half-moon spectacles. 'Looks like people are getting worried about the situation at Azkaban. The Ministry has managed to keep the story relatively under wraps, but that hasn't stopped rumours from flying around, of course – the latest rumour is that the Dementors are rebelling.'

Dumbledore turned back to Leanne and stared at her. 'Dark times may soon befall the wizarding world if we are not careful,' he said, rather darkly. 'I hope it doesn't come to that. However, I ask you to take extra care, and to report any further meetings with Wheezy to myself.'

Leanne nodded and left the office, rushing back to the Great Hall to tell Frieda and Duncan everything she had learned.

October continued, and the cold swept in. Though the Gryffindor Common Room may have been nice and warm due to its large fire (and, indeed, Leanne spent much of her time there, staying up after everyone else had gone to bed, hoping Wheezy would make an appearance), the dungeons were frightfully cold. Leanne spent much of her time huddled around her warm cauldron, though the potions within were rarely of the standard Professor Snape liked to see.

'Looks like the Confusing Concoction you are making has addled your brains,' Snape said in a tone that was about as cold as the temperature in the room, 'for we were supposed to be making Hair-Raising Potions.' He raised his wand and said, '_Evanesco!_' and the contents of Leanne's cauldron vanished instantly. 'A waste of a lesson, Miss Davies,' he said cruelly. 'And your most recent essay was less than impressive – may I say that the Polyjuice Potion changes the appearance of someone, it does not turn them into a wombat as your answer stated.'

Embarrassed, Leanne looked down and tried not to look at the Slytherins, who were sniggering at her. Frieda nudged her and pointed over to Malfoy; he was looking even more smug than usual, standing tall as if he were the most important person in the room. Leanne once again wondered if he was the heir of Slytherin…

The days continued to struggle by, and still Leanne heard no news of Wheezy. She was starting to become concerned that he might have killed himself after hearing of Travers' death or something. The occasional article appeared in the _Daily Prophet _concerning the incidents at Azkaban, but only to reiterate that no new evidence had appeared. The Ministry was started to fear that Roderick Thackley and Donaghan Thruston were dead.

However, when Halloween arrived, her troubles were pushed out of her head as she and Frieda headed down to the Great Hall for the Halloween feast; the four tables were glittering invitingly with golden plates and candles; vast pumpkins that had been carved by Hagrid adorned the Hall, and live bats fluttered above their heads as they tucked into their meal. Leanne looked up at Dumbledore, who looked as though he was highly enjoying himself; according to Snape's surly expression, the same couldn't be said for him. Gilderoy Lockhart was beaming around the room in between having conversations with Professor McGonagall, though she had a forced smile on her face as she spoke to him.

'I can't believe we've been back at Hogwarts for two months,' Frieda said in between mouthfuls of jacket potatoes.

Leanne agreed as she tucked into some pudding. She looked around at everyone else; Neville and Seamus Finnigan were having a discussion about Quidditch; Fred and George Weasley had bewitched a bat to fly repeatedly into a very annoyed-looking Percy; Roger was shouting excitedly over at the Ravenclaw table, and Duncan looked like he was having an amicable conversation with a first-year girl called Luna Lovegood; Demelza Robins, meanwhile, had since recovered from her midnight encounter, and was talking happily with her friends; Harry, Ron and Hermione, however, were mysteriously absent, and Parvati Patil said she had spotted them heading down into the dungeons just before the feast had begun.

Eventually, after the food had vacated the plates and entered the stomachs of everyone sitting around them, Dumbledore stood up, said a few words and said everyone could go back to their dormitories. Leanne and Frieda drifted out of the Great Hall and climbed the stairs, heading for the Gryffindor Common Room.

However, when they reached the second floor, they realised something was amiss; a large crowd had gathered in the corridor, and people were muttering darkly to themselves and gasping.

'What do you suppose has happened here?' Leanne asked, trying to shoulder herself to the front of the crowd, Frieda right behind them; Duncan appeared from another direction, obviously on his way to the Ravenclaw tower by attracted by the commotion.

Leanne stepped in something wet. She looked down and saw a huge puddle, as if the corridor had been flooded; she continued worming her way through the crowd, eventually reaching the front and gasping in shock at what she saw before them.

Mrs Norris, Filch's cat, was hanging by her tail from a torch bracket, stiff as a board, her bulbous eyes unblinking. Above it were words that had been daubed onto the wall: THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.

Silence descended on the crowd as they stared, open-mouthed at the scene. Harry, Ron and Hermione were standing in the middle of the corridor, looking around nervously and trying not to look as though they could be blamed for the incident.

'Enemies of the heir, beware!' shouted a familiar callous voice, and Leanne saw Draco Malfoy muscling his way through the crowd as he read the writing on the wall. 'You'll be next, Mudbloods!'

'Mudbloods?' Leanne asked. The term wasn't familiar to her.

'It's a nasty word for someone who is Muggle-born,' Frieda muttered, glaring at Malfoy venomously.

'What's going on here? What's going on?' another voice called out, as someone else pushed their way through the crowd. It was Argus Filch, Leanne quickly realised. He stopped short as he was Mrs Norris hanging from the torch bracket, and his eyes went wide.

'My cat!' he shrieked. 'My cat! What's happened to Mrs Norris?' He looked around wildly, hoping to spot the culprit, and he spotted Harry, who was trying to sidle, unnoticed, into the crowd. 'You! You've murdered my cat!' he screeched. 'You've killed her! I'll kill you! I'll – '

'Argus!' yelled yet another voice, this time loud and booming.

Dumbledore whipped his way into the scene, various other teachers at his heel. Professor McGonagall surveyed the writing; Snape looked suspiciously at Harry, who tried to avoid eye contact; even Lockhart had lost his usual broad grin. Dumbledore took control of the situation quickly. He detached Mrs Norris from the torch bracket and said, 'Come with me Argus. You too, Mr Potter, Mr Weasley, Miss Granger.'

'My office is nearest, Headmaster,' Lockhart said eagerly. 'Just upstairs – please feel free – '

'Thank you, Gilderoy,' Dumbledore said, and the crowd silently parted to let Dumbledore and the other teachers, along with Filch and Harry, Ron and Hermione through, the latter three of whom were trying not to look guilty.

When they had vanished, talk erupted once again. The babble grew louder, as everyone hurried to examine the writing on the wall. Draco Malfoy looked unconcerned and left the area, a smug expression on his face. Leanne tugged Frieda's arm and they hurried up to the Gryffindor Common Room, which was unsurprisingly empty.

'You don't think Harry, Ron and Hermione did that, do you?' Frieda asked once they had clambered through the portrait of the Fat Lady ('What's going on down there?' she asked, though the question fell on deaf ears).

'No, they can't have done,' Leanne said. 'I mean, all of them are in Gryffindor – none of them can be the heir of Slytherin, especially Hermione – she is Muggle born… I don't know why they were there and not at the Halloween feast, though…'

'You think Malfoy did it?' Frieda went on.

Leanne paused. 'I don't know,' she said slowly. 'I didn't seem him at the feast, but then again, I wasn't really looking at the Slytherin table. And it's kind of suspicious that he would be on the second floor when the Slytherin Common Room is in the dungeons. I could have been him, I suppose. But that spell… whatever was used on Mrs Norris to make her so stiff like that… I don't know whether a second-year boy could have performed magic like that. But who else could it be?'

There was a crack and Wheezy appeared in front of them. Leanne jumped and almost shrieked in fright.

'The Chamber of Secrets has been opened,' the house elf wailed. 'This is tragic news! It is as I feared! Hogwarts is in terrible danger! Wheezy came to warn Leanne Davies!'

'Yes, we know. And where have you been?' Leanne demanded. 'And how did you know about the Chamber so fast?'

'Ah, Wheezy was sitting alone at Master's old house,' Wheezy explained, sounding rather sad, 'and Cavindra the Wise came into her portrait and told me what had happened at Hogwarts. She has a portrait here as well so she can pass between them. I rushed here to see if you were safe – I though the beast might already have claimed lives.'

'No. Well, I don't think so,' Leanne said. 'There's something wrong with the caretaker's cat, but I don't think she's dead.' She stopped, suddenly realising the severity of the situation. 'So, there's now a huge beast roaming Hogwarts? How can it go unnoticed?'

'Wheezy does not know,' the house elf said. 'Wheezy only knows what he has been told.'

'How come you've taken so long to come and see us?' Frieda asked, looking highly suspicious.

'Ah, Wheezy was devastated by the news of his Master's death.' Wheezy looked extremely sad and looked down at the floor. 'Master made Wheezy do some things he didn't want to do, but Wheezy loved Master very much. He is sad that he is dead. Wheezy has been taking care of everything at Master's old home. He forgot that he promised Leanne Davies a visit. Wheezy only came tonight to warn Leanne about the Chamber of Secrets. He thought Leanne might not know.'

'Well, you're here now,' Leanne pointed out, 'and since everyone is downstairs, you might as well tell me what you were going to tell me last time – I don't think anyone will be interrupting us for some time, they're too busy with the writing on the wall. You said something about Horcruxes, didn't you? What are they?'

'They are the reason Master was searching for the Orb of the Serpent,' Wheezy whispered, looking around to make sure no one was around. 'Horcruxes are dark objects, miss. They are objects in which dark wizards or witches hide a fragment of their soul so they can be immortal. That way, even if the physical body is attacked and destroyed, the dark wizard or witch cannot fully die because his or her soul remains undamaged. Only by destroying the Horcrux and then killing the physical self would he or she be truly destroyed.'

Leanne could feel herself shivering. She understood now. 'That's how Voldemort – ' She ignored the spasms ' – managed to survive after the Killing Curse rebounded from Harry Potter onto him, wasn't it? He had a Horcrux somewhere with his soul in that enabled him to survive. That's how he's been slowly regaining power all these years, isn't it?'

'Yes, but You-Know-You did not create one Horcrux, he created several,' Wheezy replied. 'Wheezy does not know how many, and neither did my Master. He hoped that by creating multiple Horcruxes, he would increase his chances of survival, miss. But, it is a horrible thing to rip your soul apart, according to Master. Master told me that You-Know-Who had violated nature when he did it – he began to look less and less human with every piece of his soul he hid.'

'How can someone hide their soul in an object like that?' Frieda wondered.

'By killing,' Wheezy replied simply. 'Master told me that by killing someone, your soul is ripped apart. Master told me that he felt his own soul rip when he killed the McKinnons. You-Know-Who killed many people in his time, and sometimes, when he killed someone, he would encase part of his ripped soul into an object and hide it.'

A sense of realisation fell upon Leanne. 'That's why Travers wanted the Orb of the Serpent, isn't it?' she asked. 'He wanted to destroy Voldemort, and he knew that to do so, he had to destroy the Horcruxes that contained parts of his soul first. That's right, isn't it? That's why he's so eager to find all these items to unlock the Orb – with the Orb, he can locate any magical item in the world, and he'll be able to locate the Horcruxes. And here was me thinking he was hoping to find a powerful magical weapon or something…'

'Yes, Master hoped to use the Orb to find the Horcruxes,' Wheezy explained. 'Master originally heard of rumours concerning the Horcruxes and set about finding them, but he did not know where to look. However, then someone told Master of the Orb of the Serpent, and believing he could get the necessary items to unlock it, Master went about trying to obtain it. But Master realised it was more difficult than he first though – the Death Eaters that had been given the items from You-Know-Who himself did not want to give them up, so he had a hard time finding them. Master quickly found the ring that had been given to his father, but it was stolen from him. Master only got the ring back last year, as Leanne Davies know – and Wheezy is still sorry for that incident.' He bowed low and then continued, 'Wheezy thinks Master got the goblet before he died, but it does not matter any more.'

'So no one knows where the Horcruxes are, or what they could be?' Leanne asked curiously.

'Master had his suspicions, but he did not know,' Wheezy replied. 'However, before he was captured, Master told Wheezy that he thought he knew where one of the Horcruxes was. He did not tell me in case other people found out. He believed it had something to do with the Chamber of Secrets, but wasn't certain.'

'Destroying the Horcruxes is the only way of stopping Voldemort, isn't it?' Leanne asked quietly.

'Wheezy believes so,' the house elf said. 'Otherwise, he will not truly be destroyed.'

Leanne looked at Frieda. They were both silent. She began to see that Travers had been doing everyone a favour in trying to destroy the Horcruxes. Not everyone was good or evil in the world, she realised. Travers had been a shade of grey, somewhere in between, trying to do what he thought for right for the greater good, but along the way, started making sacrifices that other people thought were unacceptable. She didn't know who was more destructive: people like Travers, who did everything they could to accomplish their goals, no matter what was lost along the way, or being like Dumbledore, who prevented people like Travers from doing what they believed in. Then Leanne remembered that Derrick Travers had been responsible for her father's death and decided that she would stick up for Dumbledore any day…


	24. Chapter 23: Slytherin's Heir

**Chapter Twenty-Three– **

**Slytherin's Heir**

**Duncan was most unhappy that he had missed out on what Wheezy had to say, but Leanne and Frieda were quick to fill him in on the details. **Leanne had been meaning to tell Dumbledore all that Wheezy had said, but as the rumours raced around the school concerning the Chamber of Secrets and the incident involving Mrs Norris escalated, Leanne forgot, and indeed became preoccupied in trying to figure out who had opened the Chamber once before, but a glance through the library books proved unuseful. Professor Sprout told the class in the next Herbology lesson, however, that Mrs Norris had simply been petrified and wasn't dead (the news was not greeted warmly by everyone), and explained she could use the Mandrakes, when they were mature enough, to awaken her.

Filch, meanwhile, had taken the news extremely badly. He patrolled the corridor, his eyes bloodshot and his jowls quivering, and when he wasn't trying to scrub the writing on the wall (with no avail; it refused to come off), he was grabbing unsuspecting students and punishing them for trivial things such as 'heavy footsteps'. Leanne herself was lunged upon by the caretaker, who tried to give her a detention for passing the scene of the crime in a 'suspicious manner', as Filch claimed.

Leanne became interested in reading about the Chamber of Secrets and went to the library before History of Magic to see if anything was said about it in _Hogwarts: A History_, but to her disappointment, all of the copies had been taken out. She glanced over to a corner and saw Harry, Ron and Hermione buried beneath what looked like half the library. On the opposite side of a shelf sat some Hufflepuffs, Justin Finch-Fletchley and Ernie Macmillan in particular, who were talking in heated whispers.

Leanne drifted over to where they were sitting, and took _Flesh-Eating Trees of the World _from a nearby shelf and pretended to be extremely interested in its contents, but all the while listening closely to what the Hufflepuffs were saying.

'You can't seriously believe Harry Potter is the heir, can you?' a girl named Hannah Abbott asked, sounding unconvinced.

'I don't know, but it is suspicious that he was hanging around that corridor when everyone else was at the Halloween feast,' Ernie Macmillan pointed out quickly, to indistinct murmurs of agreement from the others.

'But, surely,' started Susan Bones, another Hufflepuff, 'that if Harry Potter was the heir of Slytherin, he'd have been sorted into Slytherin.'

'I'm just saying I don't trust him,' said Justin Finch-Fletchley, 'and I warn you all to be very careful around him.'

But then the bell rung; Leanne jumped, hastily stuffed _Flesh-Eating Trees of the World _back onto the shelf and rushed out of the library and downstairs for History of Magic. She met Frieda and Duncan at the doorway and entered together.

History of Magic was easily the most boring subject, mainly because the teacher, Professor Binns, repeatedly droned on about dates and statistics that entered Leanne's ear and quickly exited through the other. The only remarkable thing about History of Magic, apart from its utter dreariness, was the fact that Professor Binns, who was a ghost, floated through the blackboard at the start of every lesson. Many people had come to the speculation that Professor Binns didn't even realise he was a ghost, having fallen asleep in a chair at a very old age, and woken up dead, although Leanne would have thought that Binns would have noticed his newfound ability to walk through solids objects.

Leanne was sure she had entered a torpor, but slowly jerked herself awake when she realised Professor Binns had stopped talking about the International Warlock Convention of 1289. She looked up and saw Hermione Granger's hand in the air. This came as something as a surprise to both Professor Binns and Leanne – though the sight of Hermione's hand waving about in the air in any other class was a common one, it was an exceedingly rare occurrence in History of Magic, for even Hermione found it difficult to concentrate when Professor Binns was droning on about goblins and warlocks.

'Miss – er – ?' Binns asked, looking puzzled, as if the sight of a student with their hand up was a new one.

'Granger, Professor. I was just wondering if you could tell us anything about the Chamber of Secrets,' Hermione said.

Anybody that had been falling asleep suddenly jerked awake and stared at Hermione. Leanne leaned forward, excitedly. It seemed she was just as interested in the Chamber of Secrets as Leanne was.

'My subject is History of Magic,' Professor Binns wheezed. 'I deal with facts, Miss Granger, not myths and legends. Now, in September of that years,' he continued, bringing the subject back to the International Warlock Convention of 1289, 'a sub-committee of Sardinian sorcerers – '

But Hermione wasn't about to let it go; her hand was in the air again.

'Miss Grant?'

'Please, sir,' begged Hermione, 'but don't legends always have a basis in fact?'

The whole class was alert now. Even Frieda had stopped doodling absent-mindedly on her book to listen. Duncan was on the edge of his seat.

'Well, yes, one could argue that, I suppose,' said Professor Binns slowly. 'However, the legend of which you speak is such a sensational, even ludicrous tale…' He glanced around the class, and seemed quite surprised that everyone was more alert than they had ever been. 'Oh, very well,' he sighed. 'Let me see… the Chamber of Secrets… You all know, of course, that Hogwarts was founded over a thousand years ago – the precise date is uncertain – by the four greatest witches and wizards of the age. The four school houses are named after them: Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw and Salazar Slytherin.'

At the mention of Salazar Slytherin's name, Leanne leaned forward even more. She glanced at Frieda and Duncan and whispered, 'This is what Wheezy was saying.'

' – founder worked in harmony together, seeking out youngsters who showed signs of magic and bringing them to the castle to be educated,' Binns was saying. 'But then disagreements sprang up between them. A rift began to grow between Slytherin and the others. Slytherin wished to be more selective about the students admitted to Hogwarts. He believed that magical learning should be kept within all-magic families. He disliked taking students of Muggle parentage, believing them to be untrustworthy. After a while, there was a serious argument on the subject between Slytherin and Gryffindor, and Slytherin left the school.' He paused to glance around at all the eager faces and then continued, 'Reliable historical sources tell us this much, but these honest facts have been obscured by the fanciful legend of the Chamber of Secrets. The story goes that Slytherin had built a hidden chamber in the castle, of which the other founders knew nothing. Slytherin, according to the legend, sealed the Chamber of Secrets so that none would be able to open it until his own true heir arrived at the school. The heir alone would be able to unseal the Chamber of Secrets, unleash the horror within, and use it to purge the school of all who were unworthy to study magic.'

There was a silence as everyone tried to comprehend it. Professor Binns, who looked quite annoyed that his students were more interested in a legend than his own lesson, said, 'The whole thing is arrant nonsense, of course. Naturally, the school has been searched for evidence of such a chamber, many times, by the most learned witches and wizards. It does not exist. A tale told to frighten the gullible.'

'Well, Dumbledore thinks it's real,' Leanne whispered to Frieda and Duncan, as Hermione's shot up again. 'It was opened once before, wasn't it. Wheezy said that on the train. I asked Dumbledore who had opened it, but he never told me.'

'You think it was Lucius Malfoy then?' Duncan asked. 'And now Draco's opened it this time?'

'I really don't know,' Leanne shrugged. 'It's possible. It's more plausible than Harry being the heir.' She jerked her finger to where Harry was sitting, doing his best to avoid the rapid movements of Hermione's hand shooting into the air. 'I overheard some Hufflepuffs in the library today, they seem to think it's Harry. At least Malfoy is in Slytherin – that makes some sense… but Harry…'

'And now wonder the Chamber has never been found by other wizards,' Frieda said. 'If it can only be opened by the heir of Slytherin, it's not likely they'll be able to find and open it, is it?'

'That will do,' Professor Binns said sharply, cutting Dean Thomas and Parvati Patil short of asking him more questions. 'It is a myth! It dos not exist! There is not a shred of evidence that Slytherin ever built so much a secret broom cupboard! I regret telling you such a foolish story. We will return, if you please, to history, to solid, believable, verifiable fact!'

Leanne stopped talking and instantly felt her eyelids become heavy as Professor Binns returned to talking about the International Warlock Convention; within seconds, any excitement that had built up vanished and Professor Binns' voice became a drone in the background.

The story of the Chamber of Secrets and the heir of Slytherin remained fresh on the minds of every student who had heard it for the next few days, and it was only on Saturday, the day of Gryffindor's first Quidditch match, against Slytherin, that it began to die down. Leanne was excited about it, but when she learned that the entire Slytherin team now had Nimbus 2001s, donated to them by Draco Malfoy's father, who was apparently the new Seeker, she began to get nervous. The fastest broom Gryffindor had was the Nimbus 2000 that Harry possessed; everyone else had Cleansweep Fives.

'Doesn't look too good, does it?' Frieda asked darkly, as they hurried out to the Quidditch pitch after a hurried breakfast. 'I mean, Slytherin are going to run circles around us…'

'Yeah, well, at least we have better players,' Leanne pointed out. 'I don't know how good Malfoy is, but I reckon he just bought his way on to the team. Harry's a better Seeker, no doubt about it…'

'Well, good luck,' Duncan said as he started to make his way towards the Ravenclaw stands, who wanted to see Slytherin beaten as much as Leanne and Frieda did.

Leanne and Frieda clambered up to get some good seats in the stands, and managed to squeeze between Neville and Dean Thomas to get to some front seats. Leanne looked down; the two teams had marched on to the pitch, and the two captains, Oliver Wood of Gryffindor and Marcus Flint of Slytherin, were shaking each other's hands, although Flint seemed to be trying to shake Wood's arm from his socket.

'On my whistle,' Madam Hooch, the Quidditch team said, 'three… two… one…'

She blew the whistle and released the balls; Leanne saw a miniscule glimpse of the tiny Golden Snitch before it vanished, and the Bludgers went hurtling into the sky.

' – and Slytherin Chaser Pucey has the Quaffle,' commentated Lee Jordan. 'Passed to Warrington – oh, nice interception from Alicia Spinnet there – on to Bell – she shoots – oh no, stopped by Bletchley…'

It started to rain, heavy drops falling on both the crowd and the players. The Slytherins started to pull ahead, scoring goal after goal, though it was hardly Oliver Wood's fault; the Slytherin Chasers were getting a clear path to the goal hoops, thanks to the fact that no Bludgers were being sent their way by Beaters Fred and George Weasley. Leanne, confused, scanned the sky to see what was preoccupying the twins and saw them high in the sky, furiously trying to hit a Bludger away from Harry, who was scanning the pitch for the Golden Snitch, but it kept coming back.

Angelina Johnson almost scored a goal for Gryffindor, but a Bludger blocked her path and she dropped the Quaffle. Fred and George were still high in the air, trying to make sure Harry wasn't knocked off his broom.

'Wonder why that Bludger keeps going towards Harry,' Frieda muttered. 'You don't think it's bewitched, do you?'

'I'd usually say it was Malfoy – look at the way he's laughing,' Leanne said, pointing, 'but there's no way a second-year can bewitch a Bludger.'

Eventually, as Slytherin reached a sixty point lead (though Leanne only knew of this because Lee Jordan sadly announced it; the rain prevented her from seeing most of the action on the pitch), Wood called a time-out. The Slytherin players were green blurs as they raced around the pitch, jeering down at the huddled Gryffindors.

The rain lashed down even harder when play resumed. Leanne was drenched, though she knew the players must be even more soaked. The Bludger once again tailed Harry as he zoomed around the pitch. Fred and George were no longer following him, protecting him from the Bludger; instead, they were trying to prevent Slytherin from scoring yet again by whacking the other Bludger towards Adrian Pucey.

'Hey, what's that?' Frieda cried.

Leanne tore her gaze away from the action and looked to where Frieda was pointing. There, at the end of the Gryffindor row was a small, grey figure, unmistakably a house elf, where was staring up at what was happening on the Quidditch pitch.

'Is that Wheezy?' Frieda asked.

'I don't know – I can't tell,' Leanne said, standing up and squeezing past Lavender to get a better luck. 'If it is, he's had a change of clothes,' she added, remembering that Wheezy usually wore brightly coloured children's shorts as opposed to the old rags that this house elf was wearing.

There was a collective groan and Leanne whipped her head around to see what had happened; Harry had obviously been hit by the Bludger, and was now struggling to hold onto his broom, which was falling towards the ground. Malfoy moved quickly out of the way, but there was a flicker of gold, then silence… followed by cheers from the Gryffindor stand as they realised Harry had grabbed it. Even when Harry plummeted into the ground, the cheers continued. The Slytherins, who had been howling in angry, now jeered and laughed at Harry, as he lay motionless in the mud.

Leanne glanced back towards the end of the row, and realised the house elf had vanished. The Gryffindor team had landed and were rushing towards Harry but so, Leanne noticed, was Gilderoy Lockhart.

'That wasn't Wheezy,' Leanne said slowly. 'That was Dobby. He was wearing those same clothes in Diagon Alley. What was he doing here? Do you think he bewitched the Bludger? I mean, house elf magic is more powerful than wizard magic…'

The game ended rather bizarrely, with Harry being escorted to the hospital wing with what looked with a flopping, limp arm. Leanne would have thought he had broken it, except, at the moment, it didn't look as though it had any bones to break. Lockhart looked slightly sheepish and hurried away.

It didn't take long for gossip to return to the Chamber of Secrets, though it was fuelled by another attack. Leanne was horrified when she learned – apparently, a first-year Gryffindor boy named Colin Creevey had been found Petrified and taken to the hospital wing. Unsurprisingly, there were dozens of rumours flying around, and when Harry returned from the hospital wing the next day (after a painful bone regrowing night, according to Ron), he claimed he had seen Colin being brought in. Ernie Macmillan, who listened to his story, looked at him suspiciously, but said nothing and walked quickly away, no doubt to tell the other Hufflepuffs.

The school certainly was in a state of fright; students were walking around in tight-knit groups, and seemed reluctant to walk down dark corridors. The air was thick with tension and suspicion, though there were some, Leanne noticed, who seemed to be enjoying the terror that had fallen over Hogwarts. Malfoy was one of them. He strutted around the school with Crabbe and Goyle, not even in the slightest bit concerned about what was going on. But, of course, he didn't need to be worried; if Slytherin's beast was roaming the school, Malfoy, as a pure blood, wasn't in the slightest danger.

As December arrived, snow began to fall around the school, but whereas this usually meant jovial snowball fights out in the ground, people were too scared to leave their dormitories. The dungeons became even more cold, and Leanne found herself huddling once more around her warm cauldron, as Snape stalked through the fumes, making unpleasant remarks at the state of the Gryffindors' Swelling Solutions.

'There's not been an attack in a while,' Malfoy said loudly, as Snape was preoccupied stating the many faults with Neville's potion. 'Wonder when the next one will be… has to happen soon, I'd imagine…'

The other Slytherins sniggered. Pansy Parkinson shot Leanne a foul look, which Leanne returned.

'He knows,' Frieda whispered as she added puffer-fish eyes into her cauldron. 'He knows when the next attack will be because he's the one who opened the Chamber…'

'We don't know that for sure,' Leanne pointed out, though she was tempted to agree with Frieda.

Suddenly, Goyle's potion exploded, showing people with Swelling Solution. Leanne and Frieda ducked behind their cauldrons in time, but when she peeked back over the rim, she couldn't help but laugh; Malfoy's noise had started swelling up like a balloon and Goyle had received a faceful, his entire head swelling up. Snape whipped around and roared, 'Silence! SILENCE! Anyone who has been splashed, come here for a Deflating Draught. When I find out who did this…'

Malfoy stumbled forward, his nose half the size of his head now. Goyle whimpered, barely able to hold his head upright. Leanne was also happy to see that Pansy had been splashed; she was walking lop-sided because her arm had swelled up to the size of a club. Leanne glanced over to Harry and saw him grinning as well. Just behind him was Hermione, who slipped into the dungeon, her front robes bulging. Leanne frowned; where had she been?

She turned back to the front to see everyone had been given the Deflating Draught and all the swellings had subsided. Snape investigated Goyle's cauldron and pulled out the blackened remains of what looked like a Filibuster firework.

'If I ever find out who threw this, I shall make sure that person is expelled,' Snape whispered maliciously.

Whoever it was (and Leanne had a sneaky suspicion it was Harry or one of his friends) went unpunished for Snape never found the culprit, although he often glared to where Harry was sitting.

The teachers, meanwhile, seemed to have realised how panicked the students had become with the recent attacks, and less than a week after the Potions incident, they discovered that a Duelling Club was being planned. It was met with excitement and Leanne, Frieda and Duncan decided it would probably be best if they went along. The rest of the school seemed to have the same idea, for the Great Hall was packed when they arrived at eight o'clock. The dining tables had vanished and a golden stage had appeared along one wall, which everyone was packed around.

Leanne almost got excited, even removing her wand, itching to learn a few defensive spells, but her mood quickly plummeted when she saw which teachers were clambering onto the stage. Lockhart beamed around at everyone in his resplendent robes, followed by a bitter-looking Snape – two of Leanne's least favourite teachers.

'Wonderful,' Duncan muttered, who seemed to have the same feelings towards them.

'Now, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little Duelling Club,' Lockhart said, smiling at the crowd, 'to train you up in case you ever need to defend yourself as I myself have done on countless occasions.' He paused and added, 'For full details, see my published works. Now let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape…' Lockhart indicated towards Snape, whose curling lip clearly showed he did not like being referred to as an assistant. 'He tells me he knows a tiny little bit about duelling himself and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry – you'll still have your Potions master when I'm through with him, never fear!'

Everyone was grinning; it didn't look as though many people were worried about the prospect of losing Snape to a duelling accident, though if Lockhart's previous spellwork was anything to go by, the only danger was Snape losing all his bones.

Lockhart and Snape were now facing each other. They bowed and raised their wands in front of them like short swords.

'As you can see, we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position,' said Lockhart. 'On the count of three, we will cast our spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course.'

'Shame,' Frieda muttered.

Suddenly, both Lockhart and Snape swung their wands up and over their shoulders. Lockhart was about to shout something but Snape got there first. '_Expelliarmus!_' he cried, and Lockhart was blasted off his feet, whilst his wand went flying into the crowd of cheering Slytherins, who looked pleased Snape had got there first.

Leanne had seen the spell being cast before, when Travers had used it to disarm Frieda and Duncan in the forest last year.

' – an excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape,' Lockhart was saying, having now recovered and retrieved his wand, 'but if you don't mind me saying so, it was very obvious what you were about to do. If I had wanted to stop you, it would have been only too easy. However, I felt it would be instructive to let them see…'

The expression that Snape fixed on Lockhart now could only be described as murderous. Lockhart noticed and for a second, his smile faltered, but then he was moving amongst the crowd, splitting everyone up into pairs so they could practise themselves. Leanne and Frieda stood close together and were paired by Lockhart. Snape looked on nastily; judging from the fact he had paired Harry with Draco Malfoy and Hermione with Millicent Bulstrode, he had probably been hoping to pair Leanne and Frieda with some Slytherins as well. Duncan, meanwhile, was paired with a fellow Ravenclaw named Terry Boot.

'Face your partners,' Lockhart shouted, now back on the platform, once everyone had scurried to find some space, 'and bow!'

Leanne and Frieda bowed at each other, their wands in their hands, as Lockhart continued to shout out what to do: ' – to disarm only, we don't want any accidents. One… two… three…'

'_Expelliarmus_!' Leanne shouted, casting her spell first, but it barely made Frieda's wand wobble.

Frieda tried the same spell, but Leanne merely felt her hair stand on end as the spell whooshed over her.

Elsewhere, the other students were having similar results. Duncan and Terry Boot were shouting their spells loudly and firmly, but their aim was a little off – Duncan's spell successfully disarmed Parvati Patil, but her partner, Lavender Brown, thought she had been the one who had done it; Terry, meanwhile, seemed to have poked himself in the nose with his own wand and now had a nasty nosebleed; Neville had, for some reason, collapsed on the floor and was breathing heavily; Harry seemed to have disregarded the Disarming Charm completely and had cast a Tickling Charm on Malfoy; Ron's broken wand had caused Seamus' robes to catch fire; Crabbe and Goyle were hitting nearby first-years with their wands, and Millicent Bulstrode seemed to have Hermione in a headlock, their wands forgotten.

'I said disarm only!' Lockhart cried over the crowd.

'_Finite Incantatem_!' Snape yelled, and any lingering effects from the shoddy spellwork ceased instantly.

Lockhart moved through the crowd, inspecting the damage. 'I think I'd better teach you how to block unfriendly spells,' he called out, after he realised that their first attempt hadn't been too successful. 'Let's have a volunteer pair – Longbottom and Finch-Fletchley, how about you?'

'A bad idea, Professor Lockhart,' said Snape silkily, sliding over. 'Longbottom causes devastation with the simplest spells. We'll be sending what's left of Finch-Fletchley to the hospital wing in a matchbox.' Snape ignored the embarrassed expression on Neville's face and looked around. 'How about Malfoy and Potter?' he asked with a cruel smile.

'An excellent idea,' Lockhart said, gesturing for Harry and Draco to join him in the middle of the hall, as everyone else scurried away to make room for them.

Lockhart tried to show Harry a blocking manoeuvre, though Leanne couldn't blame Harry for looking slightly confused – the action Lockhart had just demonstrated had been highly complicated and he had even dropped his wand in the process. Snape, meanwhile, was smiling and whispering something in Malfoy's ears.

'Three – two – one –go!' Lockhart shouted.

'_Serpensortia_!' Malfoy shouted suddenly, before Harry could even raise his own wand.

A black snake suddenly shot out of the end of Malfoy's wand and raised itself, ready to strike. Leanne jumped and moved out of the way. Duncan yelped and leapt behind Justin Finch-Fletchley.

'Allow me!' shouted Lockhart, even though Snape had just offered to get rid of the snake. He pulled out his wand and pointed it at the snake, but instead of vanishing it, the snake simply flew ten feet into the air and fell back the floor, hissing angrily. It raised itself up once again, this time in front of Justin Finch-Fletchley. Duncan, cowering behind him, looked like he might faint. Justin stared at the snake, aghast, as it opened its mouth, its fangs revealed, ready to strike.

Harry stepped forward suddenly and began hissing furiously towards the snake. At first, Leanne though he was having a fit or something, but then she realised he was _talking to it_. The snake slumped to the floor. Snape quickly stepped forward and vanished the snake, but murmurs had broke out throughout the hall. Justin was staring at Harry with what could only be anger. Even Snape was looking curiously at Harry, who didn't seem to know what all the fuss was about. To be honest, though, neither did Leanne, as she watched everyone move away from Harry as he left the hall with Ron and Hermione.

'What was everyone muttering about?' Leanne asked a few minutes later as she, Frieda and Duncan weaved their way out of the hall and started to climb the staircase.

'Don't you know?' Frieda asked. 'Harry was talking to the snake. He's a Parselmouth.'

'A Parselmouth?' Leanne echoed.

'Yes, it's someone who can speak with snakes,' Frieda explained.

'So what?' Duncan asked. 'My dad can speak Gobbledegook – the goblin language.'

'Yeah, but being a Parselmouth is usually associated with being a dark wizard,' Frieda said. 'Salazar Slytherin himself was a Parselmouth, from what I've heard. Hey!' she said suddenly, grabbing Leanne and Duncan and stopping them in their tracks. 'Maybe Harry is the heir of Slytherin after all!'

'Don't be stupid, Frieda,' Duncan muttered. 'Why would he be the heir of Slytherin if he's in Gryffindor…'

'No, just think about it,' Frieda insisted. 'Being a Parselmouth is very rare indeed – few people have it, and only then, dark wizards or witches. If Slytherin was a Parselmouth, it stands to reason that it might have passed down his bloodline. I mean, if Harry is able to speak to snakes, maybe he _is _the heir of Slytherin.'

'I still don't know,' Leanne said slowly. 'I mean, he was trying to stop the snake from attacking Justin – '

'Are you so sure?' Frieda asked quickly. 'I mean, how do you know he wasn't telling it to attack? Could be revenge after what the Hufflepuffs were saying about him…'

Leanne didn't care what Frieda said; Harry Potter couldn't possibly be the heir of Slytherin. However, that didn't stop other people from thinking it. The Hufflepuffs in particular seemed to think that Harry was guilty. Leanne saw Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbott talking about it in hurried whispers as she trudged through the snow towards Herbology the new day, but the lesson was cancelled. Professor Sprout, it transpired, wanted to put scarves on the growing Mandrakes so they wouldn't catch a cold, and she wanted to make sure the job was done properly so they would survive the winter.

Therefore, Leanne and Frieda found themselves headed up to the library, trudging snow into the castle, something that would not have been met kindly by Filch had he spotted them. The library was quite empty since everyone else was in lesson, so Leanne and Frieda decided to use the time to complete a fiendishly difficult essay on Swelling Solutions that Snape had set. Another table filled up with Hufflepuffs who shared their Herbology lesson with. Ernie Macmillan once again started voicing his opinion that Harry was the heir of Slytherin, and even Hannah Abbott started agreeing with him now. Justin, however, was nowhere to be seen – he was probably still recovering from the events of the previous day.

'Hey, look,' Frieda said suddenly.

Leanne looked up, irritated that she would now have to restart counting toad bladders once again, and saw that Harry was standing by the Hufflepuff table. She couldn't tell what he was saying, but he looked angry; Ernie's lips were wobbling and his face was pale was he spoke to him.

'Wonder what they're saying?' Leanne asked.

'Dunno, but Harry doesn't look too happy,' Frieda muttered.

Harry was obviously keeping his voice down to avoid reproving looks from Madam Pince, but it was clear he was angry about something. The Hufflepuffs sat back in their seats, trying to increase the distance between them and Harry. Finally, looking furious, Harry stormed out of the library.

'Harry can't be the heir,' Leanne said, mainly to convince herself rather than Frieda. 'It doesn't make sense, he always seemed like a nice guy…'

Leanne returned to the essay, cursing the very existence of Snape for setting such an appallingly difficult homework, when there came a huge and deafening yell that undoubtedly came from Peeves the poltergeist: 'ATTACK! ATTACK! ANOTHER ATTACK! NO MORTAL OR GHOST IS SAFE! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! ATAAAAACK!'

Leanne glanced at Frieda, slammed the book shut and raced from the library, Ernie Macmillan and the Hufflepuffs right behind them, as Madam Pince shot venomous looks at them as they weaved through the bookshelves at breakneck speed.

'It came from down there!' Frieda yelled, pointing.

They rushed down the corridor, along which doors were being flung open as student and teacher alike peered out interestedly, trying to find out what the noise was all about. As they ran up some stairs into a dark corridor, trying to locate the noise, Leanne soon realised what had happened.

There had indeed been another attack. Justin Finch-Fletchley was lying on the floor in the middle of the corridor, a look of shock on his face, completely motionless and rigid. Just next to him was another victim, although it was amongst the last person Leanne would have though to be affected. Floating six inches off the ground, lying immobile and horizontal, was Nearly Headless Nick. Though usually pearly-white and see-through, he was now black and smoky, and his head was half-hanging off his shoulders. Both ghost and student were wearing identical shocked expressions. Completely the scene was a bewildered Harry Potter, who quickly found himself, once again, the centre of attention, and Peeves, who was hovering in mid-air, smiling.

Everyone crammed into the corridor with such force that Harry was pushed against the wall, and Justin was trodden on. Leanne was pushed into Nearly Headless Nick and felt a wave of cold rush over her as she passed through him. Peeves was cackling, seemingly enjoying the chaos, as he threw things over the students' heads.

There was a bang and everyone quickly fell silent as Professor McGonagall rushed to the front of the scene. She stopped in her tracks as she saw what had happened.

'Caught in the act!' Ernie Macmillan yelled, pointing an accusing finger towards Harry, who was trying to remain unnoticed, and failing, by standing next to the wall.

'That will do, Macmillan!' Professor McGonagall said sharply. She turned to Peeves, who was floating gleefully above everyone and singing, and barked, 'That's enough Peeves!' He laughed and zoomed away down the corridor, swooping low over Leanne's head.

Professor Flitwick and Professor Sinistra carried Justin to the hospital wing, but after several failed attempts to move Nearly Headless Nick, during which many people accidentally stepped in him, an exasperated Professor McGonagall conjured a fan from nowhere and told Ernie to waft Nick up the stairs, which he did so.

The crowd disbanded, leaving Harry and Professor McGonagall alone together. Frieda and Leanne walked back along the corridor, looking over their shoulders to see Harry and McGonagall walking briskly down the stairs.

'Who do you think is the heir now?' Frieda asked.

Leanne didn't say anything. She didn't know what to believe now.


End file.
